Ryou Bakura spent hours inventing stories. Riding to school, he was a famous detective, summoned to a remote village to investigate mysterious apparitions; looking at the garden outside his classroom, he was the lone ruler of a plagued kingdom, silently watching over his people. Whenever he was alone, he carefully crafted each detail of the thousands of worlds he inhabited. He analyzed his characters to discover their hopes, fears and desires until their link grew so strong his own face changed with their emotions. Strangers often startled him back to reality, asking why he looked so angry or anxious or sad, spending the minute he took to answer standing uncomfortably, their uneasiness betraying their fake concern. He always lied with a gentle smile, and they were happy to believe him. Before the blackouts, daydreaming was his personal refuge from a too ordinary life.

The first time he woke in unknown surroundings, utterly unaware of how he had ended up there, he spent the return trip huddled on the bus seat, anxiously chewing on his thumbnail as he failed to remember the story he had been so engulfed in. The second time, he stayed home for three days trying to recall the details, shielded under his blankets, glad for once his father was never there; it wasn't until his third friend fell into a inexplicable coma that he started forcing himself to reality. Riding to school, he perused the blandest flier he could find; looking at the garden outside his classroom, he counted the leaves on the nearest tree. Sometimes people still tried to get close to him, but the scared look he gave was enough to make them flee. When all else failed, he gave up sleep; twice he fainted, weakened by insomnia, yet refused any pill the counselor suggested. He slept peacefully for the first time in weeks clutching his golden ring in the passenger seat, the city's last shadow casting over him.

Not a single person protested when he announced he wanted to move. His own father merely shrugged and offered to search for an apartment in a small, quiet town he sometimes worked in. Packing took almost no time at all, a bunch of small clay figures being the only trifles Ryou had allowed in his suitcase. He had grown extremely fond of those miniatures, playing with them whenever the ache in his heart grew more intense, his loneliness easing at their sight as if they were his real friends. He carefully placed them on a shelf in his new room, failing to suppress a timid smile while the sun set for the first time behind the unfamiliar skyline. His hand rested on the cold window as he gazed out and sighed, hoping his friends, at least, were finally safe, far from his reach.

Escaping wasn't simple, though, and the moments of darkness became ever more frequent in the following days. They could now be anticipated, preceded by sudden rushes of ecstatic craving that forced him to hold his breath in the useless effort of staying conscious. Waking up, he would frantically scan the news for any sign of mysterious events, but as nothing seemed to happen, heading back home eventually became but a tedious routine he could not escape. Now, however, while he briskly walked back from the school garden, clutching a small clay object in his pocket, his heart pounded as if trying to escape his ribcage; his hands, cold and covered in sweat, were shaking so badly it took him three minutes to finally turn the key in the lock.

Slamming the door behind him, he hastily threw his coat on the couch, turning on the light to better examine what he was holding: sitting on his palm was a miniature he had never seen before. Flashes of the unconscious body of his professor reappeared before his eyes as he ran to his room and secured it on the shelf. Nausea rose in his stomach at the sudden realization that all his friends were sitting there; he rushed to the bathroom, letting cold water flow on his face until the retch died, grabbing the sink with so much strength his knuckles whitened. Everything stood still for some minutes, the falling drops of water counting, ticking like a clock. Suddenly, he opened the nearest drawer, grabbing the sleeping pills his father had bought. He poured as many as he could fit in his hand before hastily throwing the empty bottle to the floor. With one last glance at the mirror, he made to force them down his throat, but his hand would not move. He tried again and again as his body failed to react, as if the connection with his brain had been severed. Then, it all happened in the span of a second: his fingers opened by themselves, releasing the pills that went spiraling down the sink. His head jerked back in surprise, catching the glimpse of someone sitting on the low wall behind him, staring back the mirror; his body, suddenly able to move, broke into a run.

Reaching the kitchen, he pressed the light switch, rummaging the closest drawer for something to defend himself, the sound of his heartbeat covering that of any nearing footsteps. Suddenly goose bumps rose on his skin as the air seemed to freeze; he turned around to find an exact copy of himself standing a meter apart, watching him with a disdainful look that somehow managed to prevent any other emotion to show through. Ryou couldn't take his eyes off him, lost in the same kind of fascination children have for danger. It was like looking at a distorted version of himself, their appearances almost the same and yet completely different: he was more mature, more ruthless and wilder, a strange aura of darkness surrounding his body. He also appeared taller, though that could very well have been the way he held his back upright.

«You tried to kill yourself.» he said. It was not a question.

Ryou kept staring, speechless.

«You know,» the boy continued. «I wanted to play nice with you, but you're making it extremely difficult.»

He stepped forward and Ryou's hands automatically moved to push him away. His wrist was caught, yanked, and the whole room spun around as he lost balance. A foot pressed down on his, pinning it to the ground, making a soft scream of pain escape from his lips. Long fingers held his face still, damp breath brushed against his ear.

«If I could allow you to be dead, you'd already be.» the other whispered menacingly, slowly articulating each word.

With a swift movement, Ryou was thrown back, his stomach hitting the wooden drawer. Most of the contents crashed to the floor as the wind was knocked out of him. Ryou's shaking hands barely supported him as he tried to get back to his feet, and then he saw it, laying on the bottom, revealed by the fallen objects: a sharp knife he almost never used. Adrenaline rising again in his body, he turned around and shoved it in the other boy's stomach.

Flesh was torn apart as he pushed it in deeper, holding the handle so strongly that the blood stopped flowing in his fingers; the body before him bent under the strength of the thrust. Their eyes met, one pair vibrating with furious fear, the others first wide open in sudden surprise, then filled with amused pleasure. Ryou's hands opened on their own, realizing something was odd before his brain could register it. The knife fell on the ground. He looked at his hands, then at the other's clothes: they were spotless, not a single drop of red on them.

«Are you... not... real?» was the only thing Ryou managed to mutter.

The other one kept staring at him, a mildly amused smirk on his face.

«Are you only inside my mind?» he continued, hesitantly.

The other boy's expression did not change.

«Would that mean I'm not real?» he mocked.

«Who are you?» Ryou asked. The other sighed heavily.

«I already told you this afternoon: I am the other you.» he sounded annoyed. «A spirit, living inside the ring. Do you even pay attention to what people say?»

«I thought you were dead! I...» Ryou voice broke inside him again, his lips hesitant in putting his actions to words. «I thought I had killed you!»

«Now that's the funny thing, isn't it?» the spirit said gleefully. «You can't hurt this body with normal objects.»

He knelt on the ground, closing his finger around the knife lying there. Slowly, he lifted it up. It stayed in his hand for a couple of seconds, before falling again through his body, crashing on the floor for the second time. Ryou squirmed, his tense nerves amplifying everything.

«See? In this form, reality can only affect me for a limited amount of time.» the spirit explained, getting back on his feet. «Obviously, this is not true for you: you could kill me if you could do it with your bare hands.»

Suddenly he grabbed Ryou's wrist, tightening his grip as the boy tried to pull it away.

«That would also kill you, of course; but, after all, you don't seem to care.» the spirit hissed, his thumb caressing the palm, tracing from his wrist up to the point where the boy's fingers began.

«Your hands are fragile, definitely not those of a killer.» he continued. Ryou was in a trance, hypnotized by the slow progression of the touch. «You have no idea what it's like to kill.»

He moved his thumb to his fingers, bending them back just before the point of hurting.

«I don't mean how killing's like in the exact moment you do it, of course.» the spirit's voice grew more excited as the hint of an amused smirk showed on his face, making a cold shiver run down Ryou's back. He started lifting the boy's hand, getting it closer to his face, twisting the fingers further back. «You know that now.» he purred.

The damp breath of the spirit brushed against Ryou's fingertips as he passed over his lips.

«I mean after that,» their eyes made contact. «When the adrenaline's gone and you're left empty, standing on the blood of someone whose life you could have, maybe, spared.»

Finally, Ryou's hand landed on the spirit's cheek, warmth and softness running through his body to the brain. What his fingers touched was human, but what his eyes were looking at could not be human at all - crazed expression, ecstatic voice, and yet, identical to himself.

«So, tell me, do you know what blood tastes like?» the spirit asked, biting on his palm.

Ryou's skin broke under the pressure, the equilibrium that kept him in trance suddenly crushed, pain and terror echoing in his previously empty brain. He pulled his hand away with all his strength, his nails inadvertently sinking in the spirit's flesh, ripping it apart, and catching him by surprise.

The spirit bent in shock, a hand over his right cheek, a deep red marking it, starting from just under his right eye. He shook with fury but his eyes looked scared, as if lost in distant memories he didn't want to remember.

Suddenly he rose again, grabbing Ryou by the hair and shoving him against the nearest wall, rapidly pinning his face to it with his hand.

«Stop fighting a war you cannot win!» he yelled,emphasizing each word, rubbing Ryou's cheek on the irregular texture.

He grabbed his collar, pulling it down, smashing the boy on the floor. Distant pain swam through Ryou, making him temporarily blind, all his senses confused by the ache in his body. Before he could regain his surroundings and discern what was happening, the spirit had climbed on top of him, pinning his arms on the floor with his shins.

«You are powerless.» he hissed, his controlled voice gone. «I can claim full control over your mind, body and soul without even bothering to appear in a solid form.» the spirit pushed all his weight on his arms, gazing at him from above, his face showing nothing but anger.

«I can erase you from this world, make sure you spend your life alone.» he spoke fast, yet pronouncing each word clearly. «I can play your mind like a piano.» the spirit's tongue ran across his lips, anticipating what was coming.

«I can inflict pain upon you.» In that instant, hundreds of knives penetrated Ryou, making him scream in pain and writhe beneath the other's weight.

Pinning him firmly to the ground, the spirit smirked.

«I can also give you pleasure, if I want.» he purred, knives suddenly replaced by hands, touching and caressing him everywhere, spreading a warm, disgustingly arousing sensation in his body.

«Pain.» the spirit continued; knives pierced.

«Pleasure.» Hands stroked.

Ryou had no idea for how long the other played with him, alternating pain and pleasure in increasingly shorter intervals; no idea about whether he had finally managed to scream, about whether that was the reason the spirit had stopped, no idea of who or where he was. He lay on his back, panting, the cold tiles sucking heat from his body, head tilted to the side, eyes opened but unable to see. Tears burned in his throat, but did not dare to show.

The spirit clutched his knees in his hands, his eyes closed, his body shaking with fury. He ran his fingers down his cheek, checking the wound. Once he was satisfied the blood had stopped flowing, he threw his hand back down in anger.

«…And I don't even need to touch you!» he shouted, with the air of one resuming a sentence he had left hanging.

Silence fell again, interrupted only by their heavy breathing. Ryou did not dare move, fearing any act of rebellion could offer an excuse to begin the torture anew; the spirit sat on him, biting his lower lip, regretting the loss of his usual composure. His shaking was dying, his expression softening, his grip relaxing. He leaned forward, his long, white hair brushing on Ryou's shoulder; his breath, painfully close, dampened his lips.

«I could do it, if I wanted to.» he whispered, placing his hand on Ryou's cheek, causing an involuntary cry to escape his mouth. The spirit laughed.

«My, my…» he teased. «A little jumpy, aren't you?»

His fingers trailed down, tracing the line of the neck, the moist warmth of saliva immediately replacing the cold trail his touch had left.

«No need to be scared,» he continued smoothly. «I won't allow anyone to hurt you. Not even yourself.»

His hand got hold of Ryou's chin, forcing him to look directly in the spirit's eyes.

«Still, we both know you aren't going to try that again, right?»

Ryou kept staring without answering. Again, the spirit broke into an amused laugh.

«They say silence implies consent,» he chuckled. «But I guess that look on your face is enough, anyway.»

His thumb moved on the lips, gently caressing them.

«Don't worry,» he went on. «I like people who know how to keep their mouth shut.»

He raised his forefinger to the edge of Ryou's nose, slowly tracing down across his mouth, chin, neck and lastly chest. His fingertips were as cold as his eyes.

«I'm sure we'll get along perfectly.»

Ryou hurled forward to protest, but was slammed back onto the floor as the spirit's lips made contact with his own. Struggling, he managed to free his arms and tried to push the spirit away with all his strength; his nails left red marks on the arms holding him down as he fought to break the kiss. One hand slipped inside his shirt, following his side, past the ring on his stomach, down to his crotch. Ryou's body automatically sagged in realizing that, despite his mind's numbness, his body had reacted.

«So you are hard, after all.» the spirit chuckled, his eyes and voice betraying an uncanny amusement.

«Then, tell me,» he continued, lightly caressing the bulging erection in Ryou's pants. «Was it the pleasure...»He tightened his grip. «...Or the pain?»

«Get off me, you psychopath!» Ryou yelled, trying to push back the other.

The spirit caught the raised wrist and immediately slammed it on the floor, staring at the boy with a creepy smile.

«I thought I had already told you to stop fighting back.» he whispered, lazily drawing circles around the boy's belly with his free hand.

The circles grew smaller and smaller until his fingers were finally still. Suddenly he drew back his hand and punched hard. Ryou gagged, the breath knocked out of him, coughing in the desperate effort of breathing. The spirit pulled his shirt up.

«Sorry to break this to you, but I'm not going anywhere.» his voice was crazed again, all pretense of kindness abandoned; he sank his fingers in the boy's side. «I am inside you; in fact, you could say I am you.»

«You are nothing like me!» Ryou cried, struggling to push his hand away and failing miserably.

«Aren't I, now? » Digging deeper into the flesh, nails began to slowly descend toward hips. « It's your wishes I've been granting all this time.»

A startled cry escaped Ryou's mouth as the hand went past the rib cage sinking in the unshielded flesh below. His body was twisting, arching and burning. His cheeks were flushed.

«I never wished for the death of my friends!» he yelled.

«They're not dead!» the spirit's voice was offended. His fingers crawled lower. «Their souls are sealed in those miniatures you made. They are yours, now! Do whatever you want with them; play with them, just as you wished, forever!»

«I never...!» Ryou tried to scream again, but his voice died with the pain.

The spirit's hand sank in the boy's chest and then down, resuming its scratching.

«Weren't you afraid of being left alone? You won't be now! They will never leave you!» the spirit's voice was rabid, his ecstatic eyes following the red paths he had carved on his torso. «I won't leave you!», he added.

«Don't...!» Ryou's pleas died as he bit his lip in agony. Once again nails had started to scrabble across his skin.

This time the spirit's hands continued down to his pants. In a swift motion he opened the button and took the zipper down. «You will never be alone again!» he whispered pulling everything away, revealing his legs.

«Stop...» Ryou was begging. Hands roughly grabbed his thighs.

«I'll make sure you won't.» the spirit hissed, leaning down with an open mouth.

As warm lips closed around him, Ryou's mind went completely blank. His back arched with pleasure, his hand reached the spirit's hair and an involuntary moan slipped past his lips; the spirit's tongue wrapped around his hardening erection, licking every inch of his member. Ryou could still hear the screams of help echoing in his brain, but each suck suffocated them more and more. It took all his strength to beg once again to be let go, but even he heard the waver in his voice, and so he was unsurprised when the spirit merely giggled and continued his work, moving his finger to follow the path up the boy's legs as his mouth lowered further onto his penis. He panted and moaned, holding onto the spirit's hair as if it were his own sanity.

The spirit's thumbs lowered to gently trace the base of his cock, then his palms went again down Ryou's thighs, as he slowly released the erection from his mouth. When his hands travelled up once more, they were followed by the humid trace of saliva. He took the boy's erection in his hand, running his tongue from the base to the point and again swallowing it. His stroking was in sync with his mouth. As the pace grew faster and faster and the room filled with increasingly loud moans, the grasp on his hair tightened pushing him deeper down.
Breaking the contact, the spirit hastily threw away his own shirt, revealing his pale and slightly muscular chest. Ryou stared transfixed at that distorted reflection of himself, looking much stronger and more adult than him. Lifting the other to his height, the spirit ran his hands over Ryou's body, caressing him while avidly biting and licking his neck. He opened his shirt, letting it slide down his arm to the floor, then ran a finger under the string holding the golden ring to Ryou's neck. He smirked and removed it, placing it carefully near them. Free from the spirit's arms, Ryou tried to move away but the other hastily pulled their bodies and lips together, running the tongue at his entrance, trying to force his way in. Ryou held his mouth firmly closed, focusing on rational thoughts to resist the urges rising in his body.

«Don't try to resist me.» the spirit whispered, his fingers closing menacingly on Ryou's side. He gasped in surprise, parting his lips and allowing the other's tongue to enter. As the warm sensation of pleasure grew inside him, he finally surrendered to the kiss and to lust, his previous resolutions forgotten. Without breaking their connection, they leaned back again on the floor. The spirit went down once more, leaving a trail of small bites and kisses on his path; then he rose up again, forcing two fingers in his other self's mouth: «If you don't suck them properly, it's only going to hurt more.» he threatened.

As soon as his request was satisfied, his other hand reached again for the boy's member, dedicating some time to move his fingers around, playing with his tongue and enjoying all the changes he provoked in his other self's expression.

«You're really gorgeous.» he said with a sensual tone. «A gorgeous, tamed, little cat.»

Closing his eyes, Ryou focused his whole mind on sucking, trying to drive away the discomfort than ran along his spine at that voice, losing himself in pleasure his only remaining option. The spirit removed his fingers from his mouth and used one of them to penetrate him, while taking his hard cock in his mouth once more. Ryou's back arched at the mixture of pleasure and pain that followed. He was allowed time to relax, before the spirit pushed the other one in along the first, moving both around to loosen him up. Cold shivers ran through his body, but the way the spirit kept moving his mouth up and down his erection engulfed him with pleasure, allowing him to get quickly used to the sensation. After some time the spirit moved away, grabbing Ryou by his hips and turning him around on his knees.

«Spit.» he ordered, forcing a hand before his mouth.

Forcing disgust back down, Ryou obeyed. The spirit slid his palm along his length, spreading saliva all over it. Once more he took hold of the boy and pulled him toward his erection, entering him slowly. Ryou bit his lip to resist the pain, trying to shift his focus to the stinging sensation of his nails clawing his skin as he clenched his fists in distress. When he was completely inside, the spirit pulled out and then pushed in again, without giving any time to adjust to the position. He grabbed Ryou by his side and shoulder, heaving him toward his pelvis, penetrating further. He pounded faster and faster, careless of the pain he was causing.

«Slower...» cried Ryou, but his pleas were drowned in moans of pain and pleasure as the spirit pushed his whole erection inside him one more time. He was wheezing and his face was flustered. The hand grabbing his shoulder went down to clench his other side.
Without anything to hold him up, he let his arms fall on the ground, his head resting on them as his hips pushed back on their own. His whole body was burning with pleasure. Drunk with desire, he reached for his penis but his hand was caught and slammed back again on the floor.

«Your turn will come later.» panted the spirit in his ear, pinning him to the ground with his whole weight.

A soft, teasing laugh followed the groan that escaped Ryou's lips. He felt the pressure lift and the other one's fingers tracing the line of his arm, up to his shoulder and neck. His back arched as nails carved his skin, following his backbone down to the line of his ass before closing on his side again. The spirit resumed his fast-paced pounding and soon their moans were the only sound breaking the silence of the night.

Continuing to thrust in, the spirit lifted the other's chest to his height and sank his teeth in the crook of his neck. Ryou lifted an arm to push him away, but, as the sharp feeling of teeth was replaced with the wet sensation of lips he changed his mind. He ran his fingers through the spirit's hair, grabbing and pulling him closer. Hands were avidly caressing every single inch of his bare skin: one was stroking his nipples, then diving along his stomach to his right; the other gently followed his jaw line before getting hold of his neck. He felt the heavy panting of the spirit in his ear, breath dampening his skin and making him shiver with lust. His body was out of control, his back arched every time the spirit hit deep inside him. The other one was in no better shape: his hands were quivering with excitement, drops of sweat sliding down his body. He kept teasing, sliding his hand near the boy's penis without touching it.

«Take it.» Ryou begged. Desire made him forget any shame, any previous feeling of guilt now drowned in pleasure. The spirit acted as if he had not heard his plea, merely running his tongue along the line of his ear. Another thrill of pleasure ran along Ryou's spine.

«Please, touch me.» he begged again, and again he was simply ignored.

«Please, I can't hold it anymore!» he cried louder.

This time the spirit slowly moved his hand along his thighs, lingering over his groin and finally taking his erection in his hand. The contact made Ryou moan with pleasure. He could feel the hardness of his member as the other one stroked his length, getting him wetter and wetter with his own pre-cum. His breath grew heavier, and his voice broke, the room spinning around him. He clenched the spirit's hair with his hand as pleasure built inside him; he bit his own wrist, struggling to control his voice. The stroking became harder and faster, his body tense under the continuous stimulation to his penis and anus. He closed his eyes, unable to think or speak, his mind lost as he reached his climax: throwing his head back he finally came, soiling the floor below him in white come. In a strange act of mercy, the spirit had slowed his thrusts to the pace of the boy's orgasm, pushing along each squirt. Panting, Ryou collapsed, exhausted, on his own cum.
Without giving any time to rest, the spirit got Ryou back up on his knees and again he thrust inside him. Leaning on him, he brushed his long hair aside to nibble at his earlobe. His hands firmly held around his chest, he pulled him up and down his erection.

«How do you like that, Ryou Bakura?» he chuckled in his ear, a cold chuckle, despite the warm ecstasy of pleasure pervading it.

Ryou's eyes widened in anger as he heard his name spoken by that voice, but he stayed silent, knowing any comeback made at this point would only have amused the spirit further. Without answering, he sealed his lips together, trying to choke his moans inside his mouth. Soon the pace grew hectic again. The spirit thrust and thrust inside, grabbing his ass as he pushed in. He bent over, taking Ryou's hand under his. He grabbed his hair, forcing their faces together in a rough kiss, their bodies, covered in sweat, sliding together. About to come, he pulled out, throwing Ryou's back on the floor; he climbed on, sitting on his chest, continuing to pump his erection with his hand until he reached his climax. Ryou shut his eyes as warm semen hit his face, running down his cheeks to soil his hair, wetting his sealed lips. His ears filled with the spirit's loud moans of pleasure, he heard his panting slow, but still he refused to look. Suddenly, the world turned upside down, and he fell backward as if the floor had suddenly disappeared, his back soon hitting the wood. He was not lying anymore, but sitting, his clothes back on him, the ring again around his neck.

In front of him was a table ready for a game. He clenched his fists, expecting what was coming.

The doorbell rang.


A/N: Wow, that was intense. I've had this story finished for a couple of months now, but I never got around to publish it since I'm a terrible person that gets way too ashamed of her writing style. However, rereading it now, it's not so bad, and for this I have to thank ali/milenniumspoon/yu-gi-yaoi/whatevershewantstobecalled and Telena Ichimaru for correcting my English (again, I'm not native) and being plain awesome (also, a special thank to Telena for pestering me until I got this published).

I couldn't have done it without the rower.

What was I saying? Yeah, ok, so everything is accepted in reviews, including criticism (but please, motivate what you say). My intention was making Ryou all but weak, as he is too often depicted. Hope this got through.

And (don't hold your breath, I'm a horribly slow writer) this is supposed to be the first part of a 3 fanfictions series of tendershipping stories that explore the relationship between Ryou and the spirit. So... Stay tuned. And you can go to my tumblr if you want updates (I'm thatkindoffangirl, I know, not original at all).