The Thief and his Willow

The Thief and his Willow

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Chapter Fourteen: The Willow’s Sorrow

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‘Three weeks.

He promised he’d be gone no more than three weeks.

It’s been nearly four.

Oh Bakura. Where are you?’

--

Again, Ryou awoke one morning to find himself still alone. The covers of Bakura’s rough beds were just not comforting enough, not when the thief’s warmth was gone. Time seemed dawdled. Ryou was bored out of his mind.

He rises. A yawn escapes him. He always woke early to meet Hana at the door. She’d bring him his breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day. Ryou felt ashamed making Hana work extra hard. He could not muster how kind she was towards Bakura, always doing him favors.

Sitting up, Ryou quickly dresses just as a harsh knocking is heard. He shakes his head, almost giggling by the cacophonous knocks. That would be Hana.

Opening the door, Ryou is greeted by Hana. She held a plate of creamy goodness in a woodened bowl. She hands the bowl over to Ryou. “Here. Eat quickly, then you must come with me.”

Ryou nearly dropped the bowl. “E--excuse me?”

“I know I‘m risking Bakura‘s trust ‘ere,” Hana sighs. “But I am in dieing need of a few extra hands in the kitchens. Don’t ya worry, I won’t let ya outta my sight.”

Ryou was unsure. But Hana did look desperate, and Ryou, now after being a full-time worker in the kitchens, understood when days in there were terrible and slow. So, with a slight nod, Ryou allows Hana to lead him to the kitchens.

--

The day seemed to fly by. Ryou, standing covered in flour, waited for Hana’s presence by the kitchen entrance. He had to return to the bedroom chamber.

‘Where is she?”

Ryou shuffles. It was nearing four o’clock. He had to go back. But Hana was nowhere to be found.

A woman with dashing purple hair made her way towards Ryou. The lady, named Bas, hardly talked with Ryou. However, Ryou recognized the woman to be great at handling hard meats. She was great at grilling and steaming anything from chicken to pig to cow.

“Rye?”

Ryou nods his head at Bas, “Yes?”

“I’m afraid Hana is not feeling well,” Bas smiles. “The kitchens are sloppy, but Hana told me that you got off at three forty-five. You may head back to your room now.”

“Oh,” Ryou whispers. “B--but…”

“Do not worry yourself,” Bas smiles. “We are good here. Go to you bed. Rest.” And with that said, Bas disappeared back into the kitchens.

Just the tenseness of his muscles, and Ryou knew he wanted to go lie down. But he did not think he’d have to walk back alone. The hallways of Zorc’s domain were incredibly dangerous, especially with Bakura away and with Jalal still smirking in the dark shadows of the hallways. Ryou feared walking alone. However, seeing that Hana was ill, and the other ladies were up to their necks with duty, Ryou knew he had no other choice but to step into that hallway all alone.

Taking a deep breath, he pushes open the door. He peeks his head out, seeing empty hallways. Sighing, he steps out, the kitchen door slamming shut behind him. Swiftly, he begins to trek down the hallways towards the chamber. Sweat slowly began pouring out of his skin, all due to his nervousness and fright, but he continued. All he needed to remember was placing one foot in front of the other. Just one step at a time.

Descending down some stairs, Ryou knew the chamber was just up ahead. He smiles, feeling confident that there is absolutely no reason for him to feel afraid.

He thought too soon.

Grabbed from behind, Ryou shrieks in shock as he is pushed hard against the cold, rough wall. He gasps for breath as he stares into the face of evil.

“Hello there,” Jalal smirks. “I haven’t seen you in some time. Where have you been hiding?”

“J--Jalal,” Ryou stuttered. He tried his best not to panic, and not to cry. “Jalal, release me.”

“Bakura is still away, isn’t he?” Jalal asks. He could see the pain in Ryou’s heart, and it made him feel proud. “You love him. I can tell. He treats you like nothing more but a slave, and yet you allow him to.” Jalal leans forward, his hand cupping around Ryou’s neck. “You can do so much better, Rye. Please, allow me to show you the true strengths of a man.”

“No!” Ryou pushes, trying to run. He is pinned to the floor, Jalal hovering above him. “N--no! Stop! Bakura! Bakura!”

“Shut the hell up,” Jalal growls. His anger was rising, as well as his cock, it burning in just as much anger and rage. Four three weeks, Ryou has kept locked in Bakura’s bedroom, but how fine of an opportunity was this? Ryou had escaped, and now, according to Jalal, the little, angelic slave must pay. “Bakura has been my enemy for so fucking long, and he’s always been the greatest! He’s always been number one! How dare he take so much that I could have? He had first dibs on Zorc, first dibs on slaves chosen for Zorc. And, he even had first dibs -- on you. You! He had first dibs on you, when I, Jalal, am the one who purchased you! But I had to give you up, Rye!”

“Do you know how much that upset me, Rye? Do you? No. You have no fucking clue! No one does! For years, I’ve hated being a slave trader, and for years I’ve craved for more. Now, I finally have the opportunity.”

“S--stop,” Ryou cries, feeling Jalal’s arms growing inches closer to his chest. “N--no!”

“Do you want to see a real man, Rye?” Jalal places his hands over Ryou’s chest. “Do y…?” He pauses. Flatness. That is all he could feel. There was nothing to touch, to caresses. Nothing to squeeze or suck. Feeling confused, Jalal forces Ryou’s robe to lift up, revealing bare chest. “W--what in the hell?”

“P--please don’t tell anyone,” Ryou cries. He cried even more than when Bakura discovered his secret. “Please J--Jalal. I beg of you. Don’t tell!”

Amused, Jalal rises to his feet, losing his erection fast. “You are a man?”

“I--I am,” Ryou sits up. “And my r--real name is Ryou.”

“A man?”

Ryou stares up, afraid by Jalal’s quickening realization. Jalal quenches his teeth. “And Bakura, he’s fucked you?”

All Ryou could do was nod, trying not to stare straight into Jalal’s dark eyes.

“Disgusting,” Jalal hisses. The news of Ryou’s sex, to what really lie between those legs, it all disgusted Jalal. And to think that Bakura slept with Ryou -- that’s far worse. Jalal did not dare picture that image in his mind, and leering over Ryou, gazing over the boy’s feminine features, Jalal felt ashamed with his self. How could he not know? “All of this, disgusting. But I’m hardly surprised, really. I imagine Bakura can stoop so low, especially when he is in need of something desirable.”

“Nonetheless, it’s pathetic and gross,” Jalal sneers, grabbing Ryou by the hair. He yanks Ryou foreword, making sure that Ryou feared him. “Why the hell did your father play along with this sick, little game?”

“I--it was his idea,” Ryou cries. “He’s always wanted me to be a girl! Always!”

“That’s terribly wrong,” Jalal sighs. He pats Ryou’s cheek, causing the willow to shiver from the sudden, soft touch. “You poor, miserable thing. Forced to become female because of dear old daddy. You must hate him so, so much.”

“N--no,” Ryou quivers.

“Oh, but I’m sure you do,” smiles Jalal. “Why, if my own father forced such a cruse onto me, I’d definitely want to kill him.” Sticking his tongue out, Jalal licks his lips. He moves his face closer to Ryou’s, frightening the innocent further. “How much pain you must of felt as a child? And the way you act -- so wonderfully perfect. So feminine. Why do you continue, I must wonder. Your father is not here, is he? You belong to Bakura now, and yet he has been polite enough to keep your little secret. Lord Zorc doesn’t know, I presume?”

“Please don’t tell,” Ryou whimpers. “Please.”

“Ah, so he doesn’t know,” Jalal chuckles. He rises to his feet, giving Ryou a soft kick in the stomach. It was just enough to cause a sharp sting, and Ryou turns to his side. “Unlike Bakura, I love breaking promises. And I can’t keep any. Good day, Ryou.”

Jalal makes his departure, leaving Ryou to cry on the floor. Pulling his robe down, Ryou lets his tears drop, and he shakes his head, ashamed. He shouldn’t of obeyed Hana. He should have stayed in the chamber.

What has he done?

“B---Bakura…”

--

In the outskirts of Hamet, Bakura sat taking another sip of strong sake. He sat, visiting a nearly empty bar. The bar was not near as nice as his friend’s, Baker. But it had to due.

Three and a half weeks have come and gone. Bakura had salvaged three foreign slaves, all to be brought to Lord Zorc back in Amtine, if not already. Bakura’s vacation seemed slow and lonely. Bakura knew why. He missed Ryou, the slave that had oh-so willingly taken his heart. He enjoyed Ryou’s presence, and couldn’t wait to return home, which is rare, concerning in the past he never wanted to return, for Zorc sat on his throne, awaiting his attendant’s return.

No longer did Bakura care. Not when Ryou was there, eagerly waiting for him.

Bakura takes another drink before ordering a second. Just as he does so, another man slowly sits next to him, the stool beneath creaking as the poor man takes a seat. Turning his head, Bakura gets a good look at him. The man had messy blue hair, it falling roughly to his shoulders. He had glasses, a rare valuable used for those with poor eyesight.

The man was foreign, Bakura could tell. His skin was light peach, it almost identical to Ryou’s own.

“Bartender,” the man groggily says, “Could I get a drink?”

“What you want?” Asks the bartender.

“You’re strongest,” the man answers. He rests his head on the counter, his eyes facing Bakura’s direction. The man looked wasted already, and terribly tired.

Poor old rat.

“Have you ever done something that you thought was right, but later regret doing?”

Bakura turns to the man. Was the man talking to him? Bakura points at himself. “Huh? Me?”

The man nods. “Well?”

Smirking, Bakura nods his head. “All the time.”

“I’ve done something awful,” the man continues. His drink is placed before him. He takes it, gulping down quickly. “And because of what I did, I lost the most important thing in my life.”

“People lose things,” Bakura shrugs, sipping his sake. “I’m sure that whatever you lost will find its way back to you.”

“It’s not so simple,” the man cries. “What I did, I did on my own account. I thought it’d protect her, keep her safe. But I was so very wrong!”

The man spoke of a person, and all that while Bakura had assumed the man lost some valuable trinket. Now even more interested, Bakura asks, “Who did you lose?”

Sniffing, the man asks for another drink. He shakes his head, and he wipes at his hair. “My daughter…” The man whispered this, but Bakura heard crystal clear. “And I didn’t lose her. I sold her, which I know was wrong, but I thought it’d keep her protected.” The man shakes his head again, looking more and more wobbly.

“Why am I such an idiot? How could I have been so stupid?” The man holds back a sniffle, and Bakura was hoping the man would not cause a large scene in front of the four or so people sitting in the bar. “I was in such shock when I no longer was a slave, and set free. The moment I was, I wished to bring my daughter back. But where I sent her, I knew I’d never be able to see her again. It’s hopeless.”

“Your daughter,” Bakura then speaks, rather interested, “What was her name?”

“Why do you wish to know?”

“I am a slave purchase,” Bakura said. “Perhaps I’ve seen her about.”

“I doubt it,” the man sighs. “My darling Rye, that’s her name. She was sold to that one lord, you know? The all powerful Zord, or something. I can never get her back.”

Bakura could not believe his ears, nor incredible luck. This man. This poor, pitiful man was Ryou’s father. This was Fumio. And Bakura needed to know, needed to ask. “Y--you’re Ryou’s father?”

The man then froze, no longer wobbly, no longer wasted. He slowly looks up, meeting Bakura’s gleaming gaze. The man was completely befuddled. “What--what did you just say, young man? D--did you just say Ryou?”

“You’re Ryou’s father,” Bakura repeats. He gave the man a stern, strong look. “You’re him. You -- forced Ryou to be a girl…”

“R--Ryou?” Fumio shakes his head. “Where is my s--son? No, my daughter. Where is my daughter?”

“I purchased him,” Bakura glares. “I purchased, and bought Ryou. Lord Zorc gave him to me as a gift. Lord Zorc still thinks Ryou is Rye. How dare you do such a thing.”

“You don’t understand,” Fumio whispers, trying to keep his voice low.

“To hell I don’t,” Bakura growls. “Ryou told me everything about you, about your wife, and his younger sister. You transformed Ryou into something he is not. How can you even sleep at night?”

“I can’t anymore,” Fumio frowns. “Not knowing she is no longer with me. Please, tell me. Is she doing alright?”

“He is perfectly fine,” Bakura said. He finishes his final drink before standing.

“Thank goodness,” Fumio sighs, looking up at Bakura with a smile. “Thank you. Please promise me to always keep her safe.”

“I already have,” Bakura nods. He watches Fumio, the man still miserable on the inside. “He talks of you, you know? Almost all of the time. Never stops. He loves you.”

“I love her,” Fumio whispers. He lowers his head, trying not to break into tears. “I wish I could see her, just once more.”

Lying out some coins on the counter, Bakura couldn’t help but feel for the man. Of course, he loved Ryou. Bakura could see that. But did the man really deserve to ever see Ryou again? Ryou could make his own choice, now, whether to be man or woman. Fumio had no right.

But, Bakura knew, that the man did deserve the right to see his son. Whether he called Ryou ‘daughter’ or not.

“It’s not too late.”

Startled, Fumio turns to Bakura. “I’m sorry?”

Bakura points to the front entrance of the bar, motioning that Fumio stand to his feet. Bakura knew he could get punished dearly for what he was about to attempt, but he wanted his willow to be happy. His willow would be happy. “Follow me.”

-End Chapter 14-

I apologize for the long delay. My Christmas hasn’t been the greatest. My father got ill, and was in the hospital for a week. He’s home now, but now my uncle is in the hospital. And I’ve been stressing. But I promised to finish this story for all of you, and I plan to do so. It is almost to the end, so I shall finish it! *nods*

Please review!