Written for yugioh_contest at livejournal. The prompt was: Disguise
He was laying on a field of grass. Or rather, that's how it seemed. He blinked at the white clouds adorning the bright blue sky above him as a gentle breeze made his white hair flutter about. Well, this was odd. Or maybe he should say different, for the sake of being precise. Usually, when he opened his eyes to the spirit's soulroom - that's where he usually woke up, as strange as it sounds - he saw Egypt, or so he supposed. Deserts look all the same to him, but seeing that his soul was inhabited by an ancient Egyptian spirit, the guess was as good as any. Well, back to the matter at hand.
He turned his head slightly to the left and saw... well, his left hand, not that it was surprising really, not seeing it would've meant that he was missing a limb and that really wasn't that good a sign. He wiggled his fingers just a bit, to make sure, and moved his gaze back to the sky. He frowned a little. The change of scenery was certainly interesting at the least, but he couldn't help but wonder what had possessed the spirit - no pun intended - to turn his soulroom completely around, from sand to a grassy plane. Maybe something unusual was going on, or maybe something special was going to happen soon? He would have left it at that, it wasn't really any of his business and he would find out sooner or later anyway, but he just couldn't shake off the feeling that something was different this time. Apart from the obvious change, the place had a strange feeling about it. Stranger than usual. He closed his eyes to make concentrating easier, and after contemplating on the feeling for a few moments, he came to the conclusion that it was... Anticipation?
His eyes snapped open in surprise. Anticipation? The spirit was excited? And this certainly wasn't the usual tingle that came with knives and torturing more or less innocent mortals, this was something big. The sort of big that was closely related to catastrophe, mass murder and condemning the world to eternal darkness. Okay well, now he was exaggerating, he wouldn't know how the spirit felt when the world as humanity knew it came to its end, mainly because the spirit hadn't managed to do it. Yet.
He huffed a little in annoyance. So this was it? The world was ending? It certainly came sooner than he expected, not that he had been able to measure time for a long while. The annoying thing about residing inside one's mind was that the place lacked a clock. He had tried putting on a wristwatch, hoping he would still be wearing it when he woke up inside his soulroom but- Ah, he was getting sidetracked again. He shook his head a little to clear his head, closing his eyes again.
So, the end of the world huh? He would have snorted at the thought, but his proper upbringing simply didn't allow such an act, so he produced a small indignant sniff instead. In a way, it was about time. The charade had been going on long enough and he was maybe a little curious to see the look on his friends' faces when he finally stripped off his disguise and removed the mask he had been wearing for so long. He smiled a little. Ah, the look on Yugi's face when his friend, Bakura-kun would look him in the eye - probably for the first time ever, he realized, and he just had to snort this time - smirking in a way so similar to the one his other half was so famous for. It would certainly be interesting, but he wasn't really looking forward to it. No, he, Bakura Ryou, was a rather passive person. Or, to use a prettier word, nonchalant. He just couldn't bring himself to care.
At this point, he became aware of the cold fingers gently stroking his throat, an action in which they had apparently been immersed for some time, judging from the fact that the other half of his soul had resorted to actually voicing his thought out loud.
"So soft, Yadonushi."
The chilling touch moved from his neck to caressing his face, pushing the stray white strands back behind his ears. Bakura was obviously trying to get his attention - he hadn't even opened his eyes or given any sign that he had noticed the spirit's courting. He frowned a little as the fingers brushed over his brow, trying to return to his previous trail of thought.
He didn't notice when the other's hands retreated from his face, but he did notice when one of the hands returned with force, to slap him harshly on the cheek. The spirit did not take kindly to being ignored, he thought, as he opened his eyes, once again becoming acquainted with the sight of his left hand amongst the grass. The right side of his face was stinging a little. The slap had hurt of course, the spirit had used enough force to make his head snap to the side, but the pain was rather insignificant compared to a knife wound on the arm. He listened to his other's breathing, waiting for it to calm before turning his head to its earlier position. Only this time, instead of blue sky and white clouds, he saw angry brown eyes and white hair. The other half of his soul was looming above him, looking positively menacing. He sighed, and saw the look on the face above his darken even more. Bakura was so impatient. No wonder those plans of his were always going down in a sea of fire. He grimaced a little at the images the saying brought to mind. The figure above him lifted a questioning eyebrow, managing to look pissed despite it all.
Sea of fire... Well, it was a rather fitting expression, despite it's morbidness. No wonder his other half was so unstable, who wouldn't be? Or rather, who could continue living after seeing something like that? He sure couldn't, and even if it was for the sake of revenge...
A sound from Bakura once again broke him out of his thinking, though this time it was a growl of dismay. A very displeased one at that. He blinked and found himself staring at those brown eyes again. He didn't have time for anything else though, as right at that moment the other's grip on his shoulders tightened up to borderline painful, and the lips that had been hovering over his for some time apparently, were pressing against his own with a near bruising force. Closing his eyes he slipped his arms around the other's shoulders and started kissing back with some interest, once again being more immersed in his thinking than the actions of the other. Well, multitasking was something he was good at, had been since his childhood, so it was rather simple to keep up with both Bakura's kisses and his thoughts at the same time.
They didn't have a relationship though, they weren't in love. He weaved his fingers in Bakura's hair getting an appreciative grunt in response. No, it was not love they had, they had an understanding. They were together because he, Bakura Ryou, understood the reasons of Bakura, the king of thieves, and agreed with his goal, if not with the means it would be achieved with. He willingly played the part of Bakura-kun, the quiet friend of Yugi and the others, a good student who was unfortunate enough to be possessed by the malicious and violent spirit of the millennium ring.
In truth, it was hardly possession, it was partnership. The violence part was pretty much accurate, but the spirit was not malicious, for his anger was justified. But most importantly, he, Ryou, was not a friend of Yugi's. In reality, he was not quiet, he was indifferent. He simply didn't care that much.
And so, for the sake of Bakura, his partner, for the sake of Bakura's goal, his whole life was pretty much fabricated. It was not real.
But, he mused, as the other half of his soul finally decided to take a break for the sake of air, he didn't really mind that Bakura Ryou did not actually exist. Living in a curious way such as this was rather intriguing, he thought, staring at his partner's grinning face, his own lips curving into a frighteningly similar expression. Bakura Ryou did not matter, for he was first and foremost, for all intents and purposes-