#bakura's return

[innocentlycorruptedmind-blog]

Don't underestimate me, 'Yadonushi'.

Ryou tripped down the steps and fell in a crumpled heap on the floor. He was paralysed, unable to push himself up and stand. His bones felt like jelly, his muscles quivered, and a cold bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck. He didn't blink for so long his eyes began to hurt.

GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD!

A tsk'ing sound filled his mind. He could practically see his demonic half hissing out the sounds at him. The image made him whimper, even though he wasn't conscious of the action. Now why would you be so rude to your 'other half'?

You're not my other half! He wanted to sob but his chest only moved enough to breathe, but only barely. The few people that were about shot him odd looks but nobody stopped to help him. Get out of my head!

He could feel the presence in the back of his head growing and he wanted to scream. He wanted to jump up and run away, kick his yami where it hurt, so the pressure would just stop, but no, it kept growing, spreading through his head, until he could feel the beating of his heart thumping all through his cranium, and it hurt, and it wouldn't stop, it just kept going and he opened his mouth to scream because surely his brain was about to explode--

Soon, the quiet boy who had taken a nasty trip down the stairs was out cold.

[innocentlycorruptedmind-blog]

His Return

If I find you I will kill you.

The voice in his head was so unexpected the mug and small plate he had been holding on his way to the kitchen slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor, where they smashed into a million tiny pieces. The porcelain skidded across the floor, banging into the walls and cutting the sides of Ryou's feet, not that he noticed.

Face deathly pale, body trembling yet not having moved an inch. Green eyes were wide and round, the epitome of fear themselves. His mouth was dry and his body throbbed with pain as if simply remembering that voice, having it echo around in his mind and bounce off the walls, was enough to physically harm him. And it could. If he was as powerful as before, he could wipe him out simply by wishing it.

Quickly, the Brit reached out blindly for a wall, falling forward and crunching bits of mug and plate under his feet. The pain was nothing, he barely felt any of it, it wasn't enough to bring him out of his stupor. He leaned against the wall, breathing harshly. No, no, no, no. He was supposed to be free. He was supposed to have gotten rid of that spirit - that demon from Hell. He should be gone.

If I fucking find you I will kill you.

But there was no mistaking that growl. There was no mistaken that voice. Nobody else could make him almost shit himself by simply talking. His fingers curled into loose fists against the wall, a dry sob coming from his mouth. He pressed his hot cheek against the wall, hoping to cool himself down. He suddenly felt very hot and vulnerable, and he didn't like it. How? How was this possible? It couldn't be. . . Right?

"I didn't do anything," he whispered, voice cracking and barely audible. As if he had ever needed an excuse to let his anger out. The simple fact that Ryou was his reincarnation angered him to the point where he wished him dead.

Ever so slowly, he found himself sliding down the wall, small shards pressing into his knees as he kneeled. He didn't dare close his eyes. He hadn't blinked in the last few minutes. He was too scared to. If there was the possibility of being caught by Bakura, he wouldn't make it easy. He-

He needed to live with someone. Someone who could protect him. Someone powerful. But who? He didn't want to impose himself, even if it was for his own safety. Others came before him, they always had, and they always would. He could always ask-

If I fucking find you I will fucking kill you where you stand.