Reflections in a Raindrop

By: Poison Ivy

PI: Well, here it is. Part VI. I must say, this story was harder than it looked to write. I was suffering from the _worst_ case of writer's block I had ever had. I couldn't concentrate on anything, not "Awake and Dreaming", (my chapter story) or this document. I was really stuck. I couldn't think of a _thing_, and anything I wrote sounded forced and awkward. (All of that stuff ended up in the proverbial trash can).

Out of my own frustration at my stupidity, I decided to do something that I had promised myself that I would do a _long_ time ago. (Procrastinator? Join the club!) I decided to rewrite Part I of this series, "Knife on a Tabletop." Not that there was much to rewrite. Maybe re-format, is the better word. It was one big paragraph before. (^^;;) And in the process of rereading it, I really got back into the mood I was in when I wrote it.

And when I was finished, my writer's block was gone, and this story really poured out of me. It was like Bakura was trying to be heard all this time, and I had only since opened the door.

And so please enjoy his tale of darkness. I know I did. Both writing and reading it.

(And if anyone cares, Part I was always my favourite)

This one's for you, my reviewers. And for Neko-chan, my faithful reviewer.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh. And though I wouldn't mind owning _some_ characters, *cough*Bakura*cough* I can only imagine the chaos that would be what owning Yugioh is really like.


Bakura pushed past the bouncer, glaring at him scornfully. Bright lights flashed through the club, lighting up random spots for a few seconds at a time. Pulse-pounding music blasted through the speakers, the throbbing beat making the walls and floor vibrate. The place was packed with teens that were trying to escape the wet outside world.

He stepped up to a wall, and watched.

Stupid mortals. Wasting their lives away. He thought bitterly, If I could kill you all, I would. Without hesitation. But I can only stand and watch. For now. You don't know what real despair is like, you mortals who dance away to songs of loneliness and pain, you have no idea what _real_ suffering can do to you.

Beer flew through the air, lit by a blue light, then a green one, before finally coming to a rest on some of the people. Bakura highly doubted if any of it even touched the ground.

He fingered the Ring around his neck, loathing and needing it at the same time.

Death. The ultimate release. Why do you still elude me, all through this time?

He watched with great disinterest as a girl slipped away from her friends and slunk toward him. He supposed that she thought herself cool and sly, but in reality she reeked of both beer and inexperience.

"Hi," she purred, slightly slurring her words. She leaned onto him, and made sure that Bakura had the full view of the cleavage showing. "Whatsa big boy like you doing all alone?"

"Maybe I like being alone." He replied neutrally, trying to keep the disgust out of his voice.

Oh you foolish mortal. Don't you know who you're dealing with?

Mere minutes later, he stepped away from her dead body, the high he got from her death already fading.

And yet, as he stared at her, he couldn't help but feel an emotion akin to compassion.

You mortals. Your lives are like a flame. Burning brightly for a short time, then dying. So easy to snuff out. He continued walking, stepping casually over her body, feeling her skull squish pleasingly underneath his foot.

Tonight is a night for dark thoughts. Bakura ignored the rain pouring onto his head. It was as if the sky had spit, and decided to dump everything on Domino. But that was just the end of winter.

The end to a year. The beginning of another. A never ending cycle. Yes, tonight is a night for dark thoughts.

He held the Ring up to the murky darkness that surrounded him. The street lamps cast a feeble glow on his surroundings.

"Eternal life." he mused out loud, enjoying the sound his sound of his voice struggling through the rain. "When I had the answer all along." He laughed.

"Just get your spirit trapped in a Sennen Item."

A passerby hurrying home, desperately trying to tell himself that his umbrella which he held over his head actually made a difference to the state of his clothes and hair, heard the last sentence, and turned around to stare.

Bakura bared his teeth good-naturedly, but other than that, didn't respond at all.

Ironic, is it not? The one person who did not want to live forever, gets to. That priest was right when he told me that he was giving me the worst punishment he could imagine.

The street beneath him was pretty much flooded, but Bakura ignored the squelching.

The pharaoh really _is_ stupid. Does he even wonder _why_ I was inside the royal tombs that night? Or did he ever even care? Doesn't he _know_ that I'm tired of it all, my "life"?

I bet he believes that I was there to _defy_ him. That I had wandered into the tombs, the ones specifically marked as a suicide trip, because I hated him so much. So much that I would risk my life so I can be "one up on Yami".

Bakura laughed in what he believed to be a fond way, but in reality sounded harsh.

Egotistical bastard. I hope what Ryou says is true. That Yami's gone for good. But then, do I care?

He was surprised to find himself in the park, standing on the ornamental bridge, watching the swollen water rush by beneath him. The park was abandoned at that time of night and weather, giving it a lonely and haunted look.

No one understands me. My hikari thinks he does, because he can read my mind, but he doesn't. Even if he knew what I was thinking, he would not _understand_. The light, no matter how grey, will never equal the total darkness that is I.

As he gazed into the flooded stream, he uttered a sentence softly, almost to himself.

"Tenebrae sum." {1}

His voice had a mocking edge to it, one that he was unaware of.

He held up the Ring once more, and made the Item glow, casting the hieroglyphics written upon it in a golden light.

Bakura read quietly of the legend, and the awesome power one would posses if one had all seven.

My quest in life. To collect them all. But no one really knows or asked why I wanted them.

Suddenly, without any warning, he ripped the ring from around his neck, and tossed it into the waters, using all of his considerable strength to launch the object from him, spinning it like a frisbee. The light went out as soon it left his hands.

Bakura turned around to leave, not at all surprised at the sudden weight around his neck.

He glanced down, and saw the Ring, tied securely by the cord, (no longer ripped) looking as if it had never left.

"It always come back." He whispered softly, curling his hands around it.

I have the ability to steal souls, to bring Duel Monster cards to life, and to kill. The most notorious tomb robber in my day, the most fearless. So why can't I get rid of _one_ thing?

His hands curled into fists at his side.

As he walked past a park bench, he swung over and punched it savagely, listening with satisfaction at the dull thunk that came from his fist connecting with the metal.

He pulled his hand back (noting the dent on the bench contentedly), and examined it grimly. There were no marks on his fingers at all. He slowly opened his fist, and inspected his palm for the most minute scratch or cut.

I can't even bleed anymore he thought, blinking the rain from his eyelashes, when did I lose the ability to bleed?

He walked on, ignoring the bench, and the scene of his latest defeat.

The fools, the pharaoh's fools, actually think, actually _believe_ that I want to take over the world!

He quoted a line that he had read only moments before. The being that posses all seven Items of Power will have ultimate control over the elements, and chooses Life and Death.

He left the park and headed into a side street.

Chooses over life and death…he mused slowly, if I had all seven Items, I can finally choose. I can choose death.

For over 5000 years, death has been denied to me, but when I have all seven, I will absolute power. And finally, I will have control over my destiny.

My life has been nothing but one big mistake. I knew it in Egypt, and I know it now. I see it in the eyes of my hikari. My darkness is slowly overtaking him, claiming him, robbing him of his light. He would be so much better off without me. _I_ would be so much better off without me.

What is it in a person that makes them tired? That makes them weary of life? To just want to end it, and get it over with, to move on? Why is it that only a few possesses this need?

Bakura suddenly laughed out loud.

"I always _was_ impatient in life!" he shouted to the rain that poured unceasingly onto him.

He came up to a large puddle, and in the process of stepping over it, looked in.

Bakura saw a slim figure with wet hair plastered to his body along with his clothes, showing a muscular physique. The eyes were dark, and had a haunted look in them.

He saw all this in bits and pieces, as rain fell in the puddle, marring his face and body.

I've gone past the point of no return. I have nothing to live for, nothing to look forward to.

My one purpose in "life" is to watch my hikari grow old and die, corrupted by my evil and darkness.

I am but a mere spirit, trapped between life and death, biding my time. And when I _do_ posses all seven Sennen Items, I will dies with satisfaction.

He stopped abruptly, not knowing nor caring where he was.

When that time comes, I will die with great contentment, knowing that I took as many mortals as I possibly could with me.
He turned and headed off in the direction of the club, the weight of the deck in his pocket giving him no little satisfaction.
It rained on, as if the very heavens knew of his plight, and were lamenting it.
The sky is crying for me, he noted dimly. Yet it, like I, has no power, no way to cause my destruction.
My destiny is distorted, as it is in water, in rain. It will be that way for a long, long time.
As he strode quickly through the trees in the park, passing by the bench and bridge, Bakura wasn't sure if the water on his face was rain, or his own tears.
He wasn't quite sure that he cared.
Tonight is a night for dark thoughts. And many, many dark deeds.
{1} Latin: Darkness, I.
PI: Please read and review minna-san!! Please!