FULL SUMMARY: Jou has sunken into a deep depression,hiding it from everyone.During a summer break without his friends he's thrown into an unlikely situation with Bakura.Resolute to take care of the thief who has plunged into drugs,they strike an unlikely friendship that leads to something more.But what will everyone's reactions be?What of Bakura's past lover?What about Jou's old crush?And can Jou help Bakura out of his suicidal state or will he fall alongside the yami?
Hi all! Tis Ferris (again) Yes I've started another story (again) I must be going crazy!
-glares- Shut it, you! -ahem- Anyway, this is the experimental story I've been working on. There's only been one other fic I've ever seen with this pairing: Baku/Jou! I actually got the idea to try writing this couple after the way Baku and Jou's understanding of one another has turned out in Screams of Shadows and its sequel Beyond Tomorrow, Before Today. I decided to try taking it to the next level.
Baku: -scowling- You must insist on humiliating me, mustn't you?
-smirks- Yup. I decided to start posting this story since I'm over half-way through chappie seven and am in a lull for the rest of my ficcies at the moment (it figures, eh?) Most of the subjects in this fic I have personally dealth with with my friends, family members, or myself. It's pretty disturbing. So therefore: there are going to be a LOT of warnings for this fic. -smiles pleasantly- Let's begin, shall we?
WARNINGS: this fic contains slash (male/male relationships), sexual situations, strong language, skin color prejudices, homophobia, depression, suicide, drug use/addictions, dubious sexual consent, self harm, violence, and quite possibly the bashing of religion (based on certain characters' viewpoints).
These things depicted are not necessarily my stances on the topics. Just because I wrote them in a fictional story does not mean I'm for all of them. Is that clear? Good. Onto one of my lovely poems as a kick-off to the ficcie! I'd like to dedicate this story to all the people out there dealing with depression/self harm/suicidal tendencies. Now without further ado: As I FallBreathing
Choking through another glass of wine
I spiral through my life's downward decline
Wondering however I will find
There has to be stability somewhere.
I'm inching close to more than I can bear
But everything has the same old flare.
I want to fly but cannot even step
As I sink down into a deeper depth,
Realizing it's time to accept
Chapter 1: Down the Drain
I groan as the sun seeps through the twisted blinds, digging between my eyelids. I turn over in a hapless attempt to flee this annoyance. After a few moments of denial, I sit up slowly, breath hissing when my bare feet meet the cold wood floor.
"Stupid fucking mornings," I growl, scrounging around the pile of clothes on the ground for an outfit.
Picking up a pair of jeans with only a few stains on the knees I pull them over my boxers. Letting out a yelp, I fall on my ass, wincing at the throbbing pain on my rear end. I twist with a growl, spotting the culprit: a light red tee-shirt wrapped around my heel. I rip it away with the intent of hurtling it across the room when a thought occurs to me. Hesitantly I bring it up to my face, inhaling cautiously.
"Thank Ra," I breathe with relief. Fairly clean.
I slip it over my head, stiffening as the clock in the kitchen chimes hoarsely, its battery old.
"It can't be...!" My eyes widen in shock.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it," I mutter, scurrying around to grab my backpack and books, only to halt. I mean: I'm already late. It's not like I need to hurry to get there now.
Taking my sweet time, I trudge over to the fridge and scrounge about for something to eat, wincing when my eyes are drawn to the red lines covering the undersides of my wrists. Damn it. It's too hot for a long-sleeve shirt today. But what if they see...? Biting my lip, I slam the refrigerator door with the back of my foot, striding over to the bathroom and opening the medicine cabinet. After several minutes without success I pull out a basically empty tube of skin-colored acne cream. Battling the remaining ointment out by fisting my fingers until they're red, I manage to get enough of the stuff to rub over the cuts. Glancing at the expiration date, I find the thing expired over a year ago. Huh. No wonder it's got all those blobs in it. Shrugging my shoulders, I toss the tube back into the cabinet. There's still a little in it. Expired or no, I have a feeling I'll be needing it again soon.
"...Besides what's the point of giving us homework when we have a test the next day?" I state as we bustle through the hallways to lunch. "I mean, shouldn't we be given a day off to study?"
"I hardly consider the night before a test a 'day off', homework or no," Anzu puts in with a smile.
Honda and Jou snicker, slapping one another on the backs. Yami snorts, shaking his head.
"I'd have to agree," Ryou puts in with a grin as we enter the cafeteria, making our way to our table.
"That's not much comin' from you, Ry," Jou laughs as he slumps down in a chair. "You and Anzu study every night regardless of whether we have homework or not."
I can't suppress a giggle at this. Yami fails to hide his smile. Anzu gives a grinning Jou and Honda a haughty look. Ryou meanwhile gets a light pink tint on his face.
"Now now, that's enough, Jou. Just because you aren't into studying..." Yami chuckles.
"Damn straight!" our blonde friend laughs.
"Enough! Why the hell are we talking abut school? There's food to be bought and eaten!" Honda announces grabbing Anzu and Jou by the arms and dragging them off to the lunch line.
Yami shakes his head. "They can only focus so long before their minds go back to food."
"Give them some credit. They lasted fairly long considering we're in the cafeteria and it's noon," I reply taking out my sack lunch.
Yami and I prefer to eat food made of edible ingredients. Often it's impossible to decipher what part of the hot lunches is food from the Styrofoam it's served in. Ryou agrees with us, sitting down next to me and pulling out a sandwich from one of the outer pockets of his navy blue backpack.
"Damn. I forgot a drink," Yami groans standing up. "I'm going to get something from the machine. Do either of you want anything?"
"No thanks. I'm good," Ryou smiles holding up a bottle of water.
"I have juice," I answer, rolling my eyes as my darker half leaves.
"Something wrong?" Ryou asks curiously.
"Nah. Just watching Yami trying to be clever," I reply smugly.
"Grandpa banned sodas from the house after Yami returned from the dentist with seven cavities. Five bucks says he comes back with a cherry pop," I smirk, quirking an eyebrow playfully.
Ryou smiles but shakes his head. My brow creases at this.
"All right, what's going on? You never turn down a cheap bet with me—especially when it's about Yami," I exclaim scooting my chair closer.
"I-It's nothing," my friend replies, eyes staring at the green tabletop. Following the conclusion of the Battle City Finals Ryou became much closer to us; joining in on movie days and going to the arcade with us. It's been great for all of us, especially because I don't think he'd been able to do so for a long while...not since the Millennium ring came into his possession.
"Ryou, you can't fool me. Now come on! What's the problem?" I press earnestly.
He sighs, glancing around nervously. "It's Bakura. I'm really worried about him." Speak of the devil.
"What's wrong?" I ask, knowing this can't be good. Nothing's ever good when Bakura's involved.
The guy's a full-blown psycho. After Battle City Ryou took him in. Why?—it's still a mystery to us. The first few months after this arrangement our friend showed up at school on a number of occasions with a black eye, broken bones, or stitches. Begging Yami not to act, Ryou has defended the evil tomb robber ever since. Luckily, the wounds disappeared and the white-haired hikari's become more self-assured.
"Care to elaborate on that a bit?" I ask taking a sip from my juice pack.
"I don't know!" Brown eyes are filled with worry and frustration. "It seems every time he's home Bakura..."
"Oh great. What has the tomb robber done now?"
We both jolt, turning to find Yami standing before us with—surprise of surprises—a cherry soda. Ryou covers his face with his hands.
"See, this is why I haven't talked about it," he mumbles miserably.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Yami asks confusedly sitting down across from us.
"This!" Ryou emphasizes by flailing his arms over his head. "You and Bakura's never-ending battle with one another! That's the last thing he needs right now."
"What's wrong with him?" I press earnestly.
"You need to ask?" Yami mutters but closes his mouth when I send him a warning look. Ryou doesn't seem to notice.
"He's not himself. He doesn't do any of the things he used to do!"
"And that's...bad?" I ask unsurely.
Ryou's chocolate eyes are weary, their usual warmth dampened. "When it results in him being miserable: yes."
"Why should you care if he's unhappy? He's made it quite clear that..." Yami freezes, suddenly ashamed about what he was going to state.
The white-haired hikari smiles wryly. "—doesn't want anything to do with me?"
"Ryou, I didn't..."
"Just forget it," our friend says softly right as the others return with their lunches.
"So what are the plans for the summer?" Jou asks slumping down in the chair next to me. "Anything big?"
I grin. "Well, Grandpa's taking Yami and I to this gigantic exclusive Duel Monsters Convention. It's going to last nearly a month!—with tons of exhibits and excursions to attend..."
"Wat! Since when?" Jou shouts in surprise.
"Since this morning, if you'd have let my hikari finish," Yami replies in exasperation rolling his eyes.
"That's awesome! So we can all come too?" Jou presses eagerly.
I shake my head. "No can do. Grandpa had to pull a lot of strings just to have family be able to come."
"Well I'm certain you three will have an amazing time," Anzu states in a silvery voice daintily scooping up a spoonful of macaroni with her plastic spork. "I myself am off to this dance program in New York for a month! It's sort of a prep for dance school."
This is met by exclamations of congratulations all around the table. Anzu's been dreaming of becoming a professional dancer for...well, forever. This is the kind of break she's been searching for!
"What about you, Ryou?" I question, intent on luring him into the conversation.
"My father's taking me to Egypt to see the site he's been working at," our white-haired friend states, eyes suddenly brightening. "Then we're going to tour the country."
"Whoa! Now that is gonna be a trip to remember!" Honda states enthusiastically.
"When you get back you'll have to tell us what you see. Take pictures for me, all right?" Yami smirks; neither of us having ever had the opportunity to visit modern Egypt.
"Well it looks like it's just gonna be you an' me for a while this summer, eh Honda?" Jou snorts nudging the brunette in the side.
"Ummm..." Honda mumbles looking down at his food.
"Oh great," Jou moans. "Don't tell me..."
"Sorry man!" Honda says apologetically holding up his hands. "My sister and her family want me to come camping with them. My nephew is a handful...say, you could come along! Y'know, help me keep him under control," Honda states snapping his fingers.
Jou glowers. "I'll pass."
I give him a sympathetic grin. "Aww, it'll be okay. Otogi might be around."
"Or Kaiba," Honda adds with a snicker.
"Har har har."
As soon as the school bell rings I'm out of the building, striding briskly down the network of streets to the house. My fingers fumble with the keys to the side door.
"Bakura! Bakura, I'm home!" I holler as the door shuts hard behind me.
As usual there's no answer. I throw my book bag on the kitchen table and begin my search. All the lights are off, the drapes pulled shut to securely block out any natural light: just as Bakura likes it. I make my way through the dining room. I stop in the adjacent doorway when I spot the form spread across the couch in the dark.
I come closer, careful not to get too near lest he might be angry or high; both now an expected thing. I kneel down next to the sofa, making sure to keep out of arm's reach.
"Bakura, I'm home."
Dull brown eyes glance uninterestedly in my direction. Sprawled on his side, he's facing outward, one arm curled under his head.
"Obviously," he mutters.
I manage a weak smile. "Can I get you anything? A sandwich? Water?"
I try again. "What'd you do today? Anything interesting?"
Taking a deep breath, I remain firm; determined to get him to talk to me. "What about...?"
I blink in surprise. "W-what?"
He snorts, shifting slightly. "Go pack. You're leaving in two days, no?"
I frown, daring to scoot a bit closer. "It's not too late to change your mind. I could explain you to Otousan tonight over the phone. You could still come with us."
Yes I've had the Millennium Ring for nearly four years now and my father still doesn't know about Bakura. It hasn't been hard on a day to day basis to keep him a secret since Otousan's gone most of the time. Still, Bakura's the other half of my soul. Isn't that something important enough to share with my own father?
"Don't waste your breath," is the contemptuous reply.
"Bakura..." I plead.
"Have you just come in here to annoy me, because you're doing one hell of a job," the thief snarls, eyes intense for a split second, tone threatening.
"B-bakura, I'm worried about you!" I protest scooting away nonetheless as he slowly sits up stiffly.
"Well stop. It's pointless as much as it is aggravating," he growls pushing off the couch onto his feet. I watch him go with a lump in my throat, wishing I could make him happy. Knowing this isn't possible, I shake my head, turning and trudging upstairs to my room to pack.
I shuffle around the kitchen cupboards in search for something to make for dinner. All the cereal boxes are empty. There's a bag of flour with tiny little black bugs burrowed throughout it. In a bottom cupboard there are four cans of kidney beans, two cans of pears in thick syrup, and various containers full of crumbs and mold. The fridge meanwhile is empty save for some milk and other foods that are far beyond their expiration dates. I don't dare open them.
Sighing in frustration I pull out a can of beans and open them with the rusty can opener. They plop down into the pan in disgusting glomps that look more like dog crap than food. Scrunching up my nose, I try to only breathe through my mouth as I turn the burner on.
It's getting dark out. Leaving the pot on the stove I hurry over to the door, locking it securely. After securing the deadbolt I turn once again to pull all the blinds. Can't be too careful in this neighborhood. Once this is done I move away, sinking down into the lumpy couch.
Man, my life's been nothing but shit lately. The others don't know it though. There's no point in making them worry over things they can't help me with. Besides, I don't want them all agitated when they're off in all those fun places. Yeah, even Honda. He's gonna have enough of a challenge keeping track of that maddening nephew of his without having to be concerned for me...
I stiffen at the blaring beep and the stench of smoke. The beans! Swearing, I rush back to the stove to salvage the remains of my smoldering dinner.
I stare blankly at the wall of my room. The sound of the car engine echoes somewhere above. My other half had to struggle not to cry when he came down to say good-bye. What a weakling. I didn't come upstairs to the main level the entire morning since his father arrived to pick him up and fly on over to Egypt. I shudder at the very name of the country. Egypt. Of all the places in the world why are so many modern day humans interested in our "ancient" civilization? That's something that's never made sense to me. Of course, not much of anything these people do makes sense.
The house is silent save for the occasional bang and clanking noises coming from inside the walls. My lighter half told me he used to think there were ghosts in the house. He knows nothing of ghosts; of the worn remains of a discarded soul...like me.
"I'm sorry, Yugi, but I struggled hard enough to get passes for you and Yami," Mr. Mutou states apologetically we clear the dirty dishes from the table.
Yes, my lighter half has tried—despite my warnings—to convince Mr. Mutou to bring Jou along to the convention. Yugi has always been such a caring, generous individual. He just has a hard time distinguishing when he does and doesn't have something to offer. This is one of such cases.
"It's nothing against, Jounouchi, you have to understand," the elderly man continues steadfastly. "It's a matter of what can't be done."
"Yugi and I will do the dishes, Mr. Mutou," I volunteer quickly earning an appreciative look from said man.
Yugi opens his mouth to protest; whether about Jou not being allowed to go or the fact that I've just offered to his grandfather that my hikari help with the dishes, I'm not sure. Mr. Mutou nods, fleeing to the living room as Yugi rounds on me.
"Yami! What do you...?"
"Hikari," I chuckle while picking up an armload of gravy-coated plates. "Talk while you wash."
"Yami!" he whines following me into the kitchen.
"Your grandfather's right, you know," I smirk setting the plates into the soapy water.
He bites his bottom lip while carefully placing his stack of dishes in with mine. I move to the right and begin putting away the dishes that were left to dry in the drainer.
"I know. I just feel bad for Jou is all," he says softly.
"As do I," I admit with a nod. "But that doesn't mean he has to be miserable while we're all away. There are plenty of things he could do. He could go visit Shizuka or join the upcoming dueling tournament..."
"I know! I know!" Yugi cuts me off with a slightly sour look. "He just looked so sad when he found out the rest of us were leaving."
"Oh I wouldn't worry about him too much," I reply with a smile, taking a washed coffee mug from his sopping sudsy hands. "He always seems to find a way into the most unimaginable situations..."
So there you have it: the first chapter!
Baku: I don' wanna do this.
Ferris: -blinks- Do what?
Baku: -pointing at Jou- Him.
Jou: -oblivious- Eh?
Yugi: Review the lovely story so these two can get it on!
Baku: Your hikari is sick, Pharaoh.
Yami: -winces- I know
Jou: -wasn't paying attention- Who's getting on what?
Ferris: -whistles innocently- Now don't worry your pretty little heads. I'm currently on chapter seven and Baku still basically hates Jounouchi's guts. This isn't one of those ficcies where the people just shed their clothes and go at it. -shudders-
Malik: Ha! -starts chanting- Baku and Jounouchi sittin' in a tree F-U-C-K-I-N...
Baku: -holding giant mallet- Y'know, that made me feel a lot better!
Ferris: O.o...just review and tell me whacha think, k?