Disclaimer: [can't think of a witty disclaimer to write] Aw, to Hell with it. I own a ton of Yu-Gi-Oh! crap, but not the actual show itself. -____- If I did, X-rated wouldn't be a high enough rating. }XD
Notes: I scribbled this down after one Hell of a horrible day at school, followed closely by a night just as bad while running the lyrics for "Youth of the Nation" running through my head… for some insane reason. [shrugs] Learn a lesson from this people. It'salways the quiet ones. [sage nod]
Warning: Ryou-angst, suggested slurs, and improper use of weaponry.
Ryou Bakura was always a pleasant, kindred soul that couldn't bring himself to bring justice to the others that hurt him. He would prepare for school in a timely manner and brave the long journey with a shy smile dancing over light rosy lips. Even as he was dragged into allies, outrightly harassed on the street, or just plain pointed out, his smile never wavered.
Ryou would step into his classroom quietly, barely put back together after his encounters but not the least bit ruffled. He would smile pretty for his cloying friends and teachers, letting them know that the dispute had been settled and there was nothing to worry about.
The bullies only smiled at this, cracking their knuckles ominously from various spots in the classroom as the excuses were neatly doled out.
Ryou went through his day with that same infuriating smile dominating his features, though gentle chocolate eyes barely belied the undercurrent of raging hurt and anger. He dismissed the attacks at lunch, brushing foodstuffs off of his uniform before going back for another dish with extra money in hand. He just shrugged when he was pushed around during free period following lunch and didn't flinch during Gym when even the teacher attacked him.
They tried to tear him apart in any way possible. Tugging on tresses of ivory snow ruthlessly and spitting
on delicate porcelain skin only to receive a smile. They shoved him against the lockers after class, calling him dark, disgusting names and further shredding his seemingly unharmed dignity.
The day after a particularly violent encounter, Ryou followed his routine like he had every day for seventeen years. He slipped into class with a due project in hand along with his briefcase. He sat down at his desk, rubbing a spitball out of his snowy mass of hair and paid attention to the teacher.
Student after student went up to introduce their projects, some unimaginative and others awe-inspiring. And when it was Ryou's turn, he left his things at his desk and strode to the front of the class with natural elegance. He smiled at the class and bowed, turning to the teacher. "Forgive me for interrupting your class, sensei-sama, but I need a word with your students."
Then Ryou removed a glistening gun from his blazer pocket and pulled the trigger...