Trapped in an endless cycle of self-loathing and depression, Bakura has sunk lower than he'll ever be able to pull himself out of alone. Malik's been out of the picture, but now he's back in Domino and ready to kick his old friend's ass into gear, or so he'd hoped. Tough love and a few kisses just won't cut it here...and as the shadows of the past beckon, the "Sennen no Rokunin" step into the unknown to retrieve Bakura's soul before he is lost to the world forever.

What a privilege it was to write for this amazing project! This was my first time taking part in a big bang, and honestly, it just feels like we've all been brought together so beautifully in our sense of community and harmony. Thank you to the admins for organising everything, and thank you to all the friends I have made across our nerdy journey.

Artwork for this story has been kindly produced by Ariasune and Shadow-chan93. Head on over to this story on my Archive of our Own profile to see it.

Malik barrelled through the apartment, refusing to acknowledge the burning pain in his shoulder. The front door hung open awkwardly, the worn wood dented from Malik's repeated slams, its lock shattered. He didn't even stop to close it, to prevent anyone else from peering in; he had to find Bakura.

"Habibi! Where are you?!"

The party had been well and truly in a panic even before the rift closed, but Bakura had gone from numb to hyper to flat-out derealised in a matter of seconds before bolting.

Not in the living room –

Malik had had to leave a hysterical Kek with Yugi and Atem while he tracked down his dissociating lover. The whole situation was a nightmare incarnate.

Not in the kitchen - a knife was missing from the block -

"Bakura!"

Only one room left –

"Suffer! Bleed! Die!" came a shout that, despite being rough with heart-wrenching emotion, made Malik cry out in relief.

The door to the bathroom was locked. There was no use hammering, Bakura wasn't likely to open it. Instead, Malik dropped to his knees and pressed his eye up to the tiny gap between the door and the ground. Inside, he could just about see Bakura's battered Converse up against the sink, but that was all. "Don't do this, Bakura!"

"I'm going to kill him!"

"No! I know you're scared, but you won't bring Ryou back this way!" Malik's voice cracked a little, his chest tightening. "Bakura, please…don't do this."

Several fat, shining drops of scarlet blood fell to the floor. Malik heard Bakura's breathing grow unsteady, quick, restless. "I've got to. You can't stop me."

"Please come out. Please. Let's talk about this."

"I can't."

Malik couldn't tear his gaze away from the blood that continued to fall, puddling around Bakura's feet. "Bakura, baby…please."

Something seemed to snap in Bakura's state of mind, and the violence in his voice dropped like dead weight. When he next spoke, it was breathy and filled with terror.

"Ryou is gone because of me!"

"This wasn't your fault!"

"If we hadn't gone on this damn stupid fucking fetch quest, this never would have happened!"

"We knew there would be danger when we stepped in there, Bakura. We all accepted that." Malik pressed his forehead to the worn carpet, as if prostrating himself before a noble lord, but all that was before him was a beaten-up door, and a spreading puddle of blood. "Ryou sacrificed himself so that we could be safe. Don't let that be in vain. We need to regroup and get back in there, so we can kick the ass of the son of a bitch that forced Ryou's hand, but we can't do it without you and Diabound."

Tears welled up in Malik's eyes, burning pools of water that he tried to blink back without success. "Ya hayati...I love you. Come out...please. We can't lose you too."

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The sound of blood hitting the floor was the only reply for several long seconds. Bakura's breathing hitched, and trembled, then there was a clatter of steel on porcelain, and the bathroom door was flung open with a mighty slam. Malik gazed up into Bakura's face, seeing the ragged lacerations and the blood staining his deathly white skin, and at once he understood. Without the energy to stand, he clutched at the leg of Bakura's jeans and broke down into grief-stricken wails.

"You idiot, you damn fucking idiot! You scared me so much!"

Warm arms wrapped around his shoulders, and hot droplets of liquid slid through his hair. Bakura's blood, Bakura's tears, Malik didn't give a damn. He closed his eyes and nestled into Bakura, trying to convey without words just how much the former thief meant to him. Actions over words - that always was Bakura's way.

"What have you done to me?" Bakura whispered. "I was never this soft until I met you. Dammit, Ishtar, I really do hate you."