Don't worry, o great owners of the YGO franchise, I am not trying to make any money off your licensed property, which I know belongs to you, not me.
Cool eyes in a bone-white face, just that faint habitual hint of a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth, Bakura handles the cards like he always did, his gaze flicking left and right just like always, gauging his fellow players' attitudes. Only the game is different – He doesn't exactly remember what they're playing today, actually. Is it Klingon Poker? Or – oh goody – maybe it's World of Warcraft Bridge, which is just like regular bridge, only you factor everyone's skill levels into their final scores. It's not Duel Monsters anyway, which is the only game he really gave a shit about. It's never been Duel Monsters, like maybe his friends think it'll make little Yuugi cry to play the game his boyfriend used to play.
"You askin' Ribbon-chan to the Spring Formal?" the blond one talks over Bakura's dealing, to ask the one with the flattop haircut.
And, "naw, I thought I'd give another girl a chance," Honda says back to him.
"You mean she said no," says Jounuchi, and everyone laughs, including Bakura's Other Self. Time was, when he would have known better.
"Pass those potato chips over here," Yuugi says.
And Jounuchi, who can't keep his fuckin' mouth shut, says, "maybe if you eat enough of 'em you'll grow to normal height, Yuug'."
Another dumb laugh goes round the table and Bakura grits his teeth. The Pharaoh's gone to the Afterlife. That's where the winners go, apparently, and the losers? Well, they say Hell is other people, and Bakura, who's been stuck palling around with the Yuugi-tachi ever since he lost his duel with the Pharaoh, he has to agree.