Author's Note: Hey! Taking a break from my crossover to write this one. It's heavily based off of the formspring I found for Ryou and Bakura. The link for them both is on my profile. I'm just novelizing the whole thing the way I see fit, you know? It's their canon, I just write it.

That being said, there will be no romance on Bakura's side. At all. He's actually pretty adamant about that...

I do not own YGO or their formsprings XD


The Thief King, once proud and confidant, lay on the porch with his hands and knees, writhing. He felt naked before his host, the boy staring at him with a horrified look on his face.

"Bakura... what happened to you?"

Bakura growled. He didn't want to explain himself to the child before him. He had been shamed. His chance for vengeance had been obliterated and he had been used like a puppet by Zorc. His sides felt like shattered ice battering around his ribs. Zorc was gone... how could Bakura himself exist? How could he be staring at Ryou right now? He should have been dead...

"Bakura... please, let me help you..." Ryou knelt down to the Yami, trying to grip an arm to raise up. Bakura ripped it away, another growl rising in his throat. He stared down at his own white hands... he was not in his Egyptian form. How was this all happening? He couldn't be in the mirror of Ryou's body... The Millennium Ring was gone...

"Please, Bakura! I want to help! You look horrid..."

"Stay away from me!" Bakura barked at his host, gasping. "What's... How is this possible...?"

"I don't know, Bakura. But you're here, aren't you? Please let me help you. I can take care of you. The house is always vacant, you know that. It's got plenty of bedrooms, you can certainly claim one for your own. Please, Bakura. Come home. You're unwell, and you need somewhere to rest. Even if it's for a night? You can leave tomorrow if you really want to, but you look so sick right now. Please?"

Bakura grunted as Ryou attempted to pull him up again, this time the Yami complying. He couldn't make it any further like this. Ryou was right, he needed at least some kind of rest. Zorc's presence was still strong in his mind, their souls still raw from the rip. Agonizingly so. Zorc was gone, though, and Bakura was still here. How? How could he be here and Zorc gone? Was it a trick the thief hadn't known about? And if Zorc was truly gone and the thief still here, then why? Why had he been spared? Bakura fell against Ryou's shoulder, exhausted. Everything in his body cried out, but his need for rest outweighed them all.

Just for one night...


Bakura turned the glass bottle round and round in his hands somberly. He had reached that point in his drinking pattern where he grew thoughtful. Irritatingly.

One night... What a lie. Bakura knew it had always been a soothing idea never to be truly attained. Where would Bakura go? Where would he possibly find a place to work or settle down in? Bakura was far too tired to wander any more any longer. He'd been doing so for three thousand years, and he was sick of it. Besides, he reminded himself constantly, why would he want to leave? Ryou provided everything for him, he would be a fool not to use this opportunity to his advantage.

"Daydreaming, are we?"

Bakura glared at Yami Marik, the blonde smiling plastically him. Bakura had not been the only darker half released and granted a body of his own. Yami Marik had been revived as well. Less stable than the other, but revived all the same, his new form taller and stronger than his other half. The younger Yami was in one of those moods now. Bakura spent plenty of time with Yami Marik as of late, but the distaste of each other was barely masked by their respected tolerance.

"Go away, Marik," Bakura said, his voice ever so slightly slurred. He never bothered with the "Yami" when Marik, himself, was nowhere to be seen.

Yami Marik smirked at the order. "You're in my house," he reminded the thief.

Bakura's eyes narrowed. He was right... they had come home from the bar early and gone to Marik's home, how could he have forgotten? Bakura scoffed, placing the bottle onto the table. Too much of the drink, he decided. He should have stopped himself a bottle ago. When his mind had trouble focusing, it was too much. And he never liked to be at the disadvantage with Yami Marik. While Bakura was feeling "tipsy," Yami Marik had today kept his mind clear. These were the days Yami Marik liked to play his games.

"Something troubling you, Bakura?" Yami Marik cocked his head at him, amused. "You seem distracted."

"And you care?" Bakura snapped back.

"No," Yami Marik shrugged. "It's just something to talk about. My brother and sister have taken a trip back to Egypt this week with my other half. It's horribly dull without them around."

"I would think you'd love it, Marik," Bakura returned. "No one to hold you back."

Yami Marik chuckled, a grin stretching his face. "Well, then it's no fun. No, I think I am pleased enough watching you squirm while I await their return."

Bakura stiffened at the words. "Are you challenging me, Marik?"

"Why, Bakura, why would you assume something so sinister of me? I've changed." Yami Marik leaned back in his chair and rested his hands behind his head nonchalantly. "And so have you."

"Changed? Bah, don't make me laugh. You simply have no power anymore."

"You think that would stop me, Thief? Come now, you should never underestimate me like that. If I so desired, I could kill you right now..."

"Hmph. I'd like to see you try."

"...Or I could kill your pathetic 'Landlord'."

"Be cautious, Marik. You are treading dangerous waters now."

"I'm sure he sings a beautiful scream. Have you ever heard it? That sweet, wonderful sound of innocence dying? Please, tell me how it sounds. I'm just dying to hear it."

"That's enough, Marik." Bakura stood and set a deadly pair of eyes at the blonde.

"Ah ha!" Yami Marik fingered the thief. "You have changed. You really do care for that boy now, don't you?"

Bakura watched Yami Marik snicker, suddenly remembering himself. He sat back down. "He is my Landlord," Bakura finally replied coolly, "as you said. It has always been my duty to care for my host. Just because we're separated in body now does not mean our bond is still not here. I need him to survive, just as I have made him believe he needs me. He is my welfare, after all."

Yami Marik waved the entire statement off, smirking as he did so. "You're even more pathetic when you rationalize. What are a few words of mine going harm him?"

Bakura's eyes stared deeper, trying to read him. "Nothing, I suppose. But with you," now it was Bakura's turn to point, "I would hope what your talk is never hollow. Just think of how very dull our conversations would be. You and I, we are not like humans. I am the immortal, you are chaos incarnate. We can never act as anything but so."

"Really? Immortal, hmm? Are you quite sure I can't make you bleed?"

Bakura stopped himself from making any new statement, keeping his face expressionless. He lowered his head. "I think this game is done."

"Game? Oh no, Bakura. I am not toying with you. Not yet, anyway. I'm just curious on your feelings. You're not any fun today. Too much to drink?"

"No, Marik. Just tired."

"Then let me end this with a single question: Have you ever tried using the internet before?"

Bakura snapped back up. That question had come out of nowhere, and with Yami Marik, it meant only that the blonde had a trick up his sleeve. Bakura had to keep his guard up. "Why do you ask?"

Yami Marik crossed his arms. "You can find many interesting things online..."

"My life is plenty complete without the FanFiction or Fan Art, thank you, Marik."

"Oh, not that." Yami Marik took a brief moment to chuckle at that. "That was very good, Bakura. I must say, we've become quite famous, haven't we?"

"I'd rather be anonymous. I am a thief, I shouldn't catch any attention."

"This is not Ancient Egypt any longer. Nothing stays anonymous. Instead of simple, flimsy word of mouth, people have cell phones and cameras. I, however, feel no need for mystery. Why hide myself when I am just so good at what I do? But that is another subject for another time. Right now, you still haven't answered my question."

Bakura heaved a sigh of impatience. "The internet is a waste of time. Ryou gave me a laptop, but I have had little use for it as of yet. One session of fanfiction reading was enough."

"But Bakura, you simply must learn. The things I've learned on the internet... I had no idea you had actually told Ryou of Kul Elna..."

Bakura froze. Impossible... How could Yami Marik know of that? Bakura tried to keep himself from showing any surprise. He asked quietly, "What makes you think I told him that?"

"Well, I would tell you, but I think it would be much more fun to show you. Come, Bakura, I think it may very much interest you."

Bakura snarled. What was he walking into? Still, Bakura's curiosity had been reluctantly piqued. Cautiously, the thief obeyed, following Yami Marik into his room.

It was far too dark in here, the air thick and untidy. Bakura's own room was not very much different, but there was something sinister about this darkness. Something... waiting. The only light came from a ghostly glow from the screen.

"See for yourself, Thief."

Rolling his eyes, Bakura did as he was told.

He couldn't stop a gasp from escaping his lips at the sight before him.

The address read the site, "Formspring". Questions and answers filled the page. The background of the page held a strong image of The Change of Heart card, the profile picture, written by the page keeper's name, was of Ryou.

"This is a fake," Bakura decided, his voice shaking. It had to be...

"Really? Why don't you read the questions and the answers. They certainly seem to be your host's patterns."

Yami Marik was right. His mannerisms, his word choice... his spinelessness. There were facts here no one but Ryou would know. It had to be Ryou. Bakura felt anger boil his blood. It was Ryou.

"Surprised? I thought you would be. Isn't it wonderful, Bakura?" The mockery was thick in Yami Marik's voice. "Every ancient secret, spilled onto a webpage for all to see."

Bakura fumed, his face turning a deep crimson at the very indignity. "I'm going home."

"Yes," Marik cackled as Bakura pushed passed. "You'll want to teach him a good lesson, won't you?"

Bakura stopped, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the door. He didn't turn as Marik said, "One question asked your little host, 'Are you scared of your Yami truthfully?' The answer is honest, indeed. Now, Bakura, you must know what his screams sound like. You certainly beat him enough to hear it at least once. Oh, please, Bakura," the anticipation was thinly veiled beneath the ridicule, "you do very much need to tell me. Does it sound like music? Does he beg? Does he cry? Oh, please tell me there are tears! He must look like a fallen angel when you lay your fists to him. A beautiful, pained angel..."

"Shut up!" Bakura turned and gave Yami Marik a swift blow to the jaw. Yami Marik was not surprised, laughing maniacally as he fell back.

Yami Marik. Yami Marik and all of his trouble. Bakura would kill him this time for this. He had showed mercy far too many times, and Yami Marik had gone too far this time. This time, Bakura would end this pathetic life.

No. Bakura paused just before he moved onto the insane Yami. No, he wouldn't waste his time with this pitiful man. He wasn't even a man, truthfully. He was a pest. Neither of them deserved life. There must have been a mistake. Somewhere, there must have been a mistake...

"I..." Bakura panted, "am going home."

With that, Bakura stormed out, Yami Marik still sprawled onto the floor, cheek bleeding slightly.

The door slammed shut behind the Thief.


Bakura pulled his jacket off as he stepped in, dropping it carelessly on the floor. He was tired and already getting a headache from the consumed alcohol. He climbed up the stairs of the dark house, dark thoughts claiming his mind. He paused at Ryou's bedroom. He could see the monitor's glow emit from the door crack. Bakura clenched a fist. What other secrets were his former host posting to the general public now?

Yami Marik... Damn him. He had toyed with Bakura, filling the white haired Yami with hatred for Ryou, and then shamed him. He couldn't lay a finger on the boy now. He was sickened by the very idea tonight...

Yami Marik had called Bakura weak. Not straight out, but his words had strung together to form the greatest insult of them all. Yami Marik had called Bakura a weak coward, taking advantage of a frail child. Yami Marik had even gone so far as to compare the two Yamis. He was perfectly aware of the contempt the Thief King held for him, and he exploited that. Now Bakura was filled with confusion, and Yami Marik was laughing at him.

Yami Marik had won the game this night.

Bakura flouted the bedroom, moving past it and into his own. He flicked the light on and stared at the neat desk, never touched. The laptop sat there, unused and collecting dust. The internet... a bane Bakura could do nothing about. It was the invisible waves that choked the thief now. Huffing, he stormed up to the computer and held it in his pale hands. He could take out his frustration on the expensive hardware, but what would that accomplish? It would only leave Bakura wanting more.

No, Bakura had a different idea. Yes... A clever smile crossed Bakura's face. Yes, he knew just what he would do. He quickly pressed the computer on. He waited impatiently for the laptop to boot up. Pop ups asked him if he wanted to update annoyingly and repetitively. Yes, yes, no, no...

Finally, he pulled an internet window up. He smirked, typing in a very simple web address, one that had been filling his mind for the past hour relentlessly.

Formspring.


Um, so an interesting beginning, no? Yea, check out their formspring to see for yourself, but there are plenty of spoilers for this story. So, what do you think? Review? Please? It's a really easy button to press...