Loyalties and moralities are all just details.

"Your loyalties are questionable."

Malik peered up from his awkward angle on the sofa. He was stretched out over the leather seat on his back, his neck craned backwards over the cushion with his hair dangling off the edge, and his feet were rested where one should put their head. "What was that?"

Bakura huffed, not one to enjoy repeating himself. However, he seemed to be doing it rather a lot lately. "Your loyalties. Aren't you meant to be a devoted member of Team Pharaoh nowadays?"

Malik rolled his eyes and returned his attention back to the book he had been attempting to read. "I have no loyalties."

"Oh really?" Bakura leaned forward in his seat, and rested his elbows on his knees. He knew he had captured Malik in the conversation whether the blond would acknowledge it or not. "One would assume handing over your tomb keeper secret and millennium items to one particular party and withholding them from another certain party would suggest otherwise."

"How does that make my loyalties 'questionable'? I think that makes it pretty clear that I am up keeping with my Tomb Keeper fate… or whatever." Malik casually flipped the page of his book, not having read it.

"Well, that's what one would assume, however here you are. In my apartment,"

Malik's eyes finally left the pages of the book and locked with Bakura's.

"Your host's apartment, in fact your host's father's apartment."

"The point still stands that it is not the Pharaoh's apartment, nor is it any of his preppy cheerleader's,"

"Your host could be a cheerleader,"

"But you're not talking to my host are you?" Bakura's temper was fraying and Malik couldn't help the upturn of a smirk. "And do not hide behind the pretences that you are here for him. Malik you are here for me,and I want to know why."

Malik closed his eyes in a moment of contemplation, closing his book, and he rolled over so he was now stretched over the couch in a much more conventional manner. Then, he propped himself up on his elbows. "You want to know why?"

"No Malik, I don't want to know why. The former part of this conversation was merely for the purpose of hearing my own voice," the white haired man snapped and Malik chuckled.

"Beeeecaaaause…" he drawled out, knowing each vowel was like wringing Bakura's already taught temper, "Team Pharaoh is in America."

Bakura blinked once, then blinked twice.

"They're what?!"

"Surely I thought you kept tabs on this kind of thing Bakura…"
"Why the bloody hell are they in America?!"

"San Francisco to be exact. And they're following up on some scary, green glowing cards that trap peoples souls and yada yada yada the same old story."

"You could have told me!"

"I am telling you."

"You could have told me sooner."

"Now's a good a time as ever, do you want to get take out? Y'know, I've been in Japan for a while now and I still haven't had sushi, and that just feels weird…"

"You're insufferable." Bakura smacked his knees and stood from his seat, walking into the kitchenette at the back of the small apartment. "And we're not getting sushi."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooo

Ishizu and Odion had returned to Egypt swiftly after the events of Battle City, continuing their dutiful protection of the Pharaoh's tomb until Yugi and co. had successfully figured out what it was they were even meant to do with the knowledge they had obtained from Malik. All this information Bakura had obtained via lying dormant and listening from his host.

And what Bakura had concluded was that his plan was slowly falling into place despite the few bumps that had formed in the road.

Like, Team Pharaoh gallivanting to the other side of the world on some wild goose chase, following the misdeeds of some kook with pretty glowing cards. Bakura could hardly believe it. They should be here in Domino trying to trigger the Pharaoh's memories, not playing hero like a bunch of school children! Did they not take this seriously? Was the Pharaoh's existence merely another little side story that they'd return to when they'd exhausted all other games?

But then again maybe they were making the most out of their idolised hero, because rest assured once their precious Pharaoh dealt with Bakura, playtime would certainly be over.

The second irritating bump in Bakura's preverbal road was a certain 'reformed' ex-villain who, rather than sticking to his Tomb Keeper heritage as promised, had instead decided to remain in Domino.

But this was a bump that Bakura could live with…

Albeit Bakura would never admit to enjoying the company of the peculiar blond Egyptian out loud he wouldn't deny to himself Malik Ishtar was definitely worth keeping around, at least while his plans were temporally put on hold.

And as stated before Malik's loyalties were definitely questionable.

Why had he remained in Domino and told Yugi otherwise? Why did he insist on keeping company with Bakura's self? It wasn't because he still had villainous intentions towards the Pharaoh. No, that ship had long since sailed. And there was the fact that Malik refused to show or reveal any secrets that could possibly help Bakura or hinder the Pharaoh. It was almost like his morals were bipolar; however with Malik's history of mental… qualities, Bakura wouldn't cross bipolar disorder off the list of possibilities.

It irritated Bakura how little he knew about the blond, but rest assured one way or another, he would find out every dirty little secret Malik had lying in store.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooo

Ryou Bakura had dealt with a lot in his life. Including the untimely death of his mother and sister, his abrupt move to Japan, waking up in various places with worrying amounts of memory loss and the possession of an age old spirit. (And we could go on and list all the shit Ryou has dealt with due to said spirit's destructive motives but let's save time shall we?) But even though Ryou flirts with strangeness often, he was still rather unprepared to discover he had a new roommate, and he didn't have much of a say in the matter.

"Morning," the blond had chirped from Ryou's kitchen table. He had a book in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. "I just finished boiling the kettle. Do you want me to make you some tea?"

"Who are you?" Ryou blurted out, his hands twitching for something he could possibly use as a weapon against this oddly casual intruder.

"Seriously, Bakura? You didn't think to tell him?" the blond looked pointedly at Ryou as if waiting for a response. Ryou just continued to stare, dumfounded.

"Excuse my rudeness then," the blond was smiling again and this time walking towards Ryou with an outstretched hand. "We've met before, remember?" the boy spoke as if addressing an elderly man or young child. It took Ryou a moment, but up close he did in fact recognise this man, but his name and where they met currently escaped him…

"I'm Malik Ishtar."

And the memories came flooding back with worrying speed. Even when Ryou had regained control over his mind and body once more after his frightful trip to the shadow realm, everything from that time seemed a little hazy and a little confused. But Malik was right; they had met before. They'd even spoken briefly on the trip back home, and Duke had not spared a second to inform Ryou that Malik and the spirit had been working together at one point. Ah, yes, this definitely all made sense now. But wasn't Malik meant to be good now? Didn't they banish the evil alter ego that had possessed him in a way so very similar to Ryou's own demons?

"Ah, now that looks a little more like recognition!" The blonde's smile was now a grin and when it was clear he was not going to get the handshake he had offered he stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned back casually. "For simplicities sake, I'm not going to call you 'Bakura', so how do you feel about 'cotton ball'?"

"I-wh-wait what? Malik why are you in my home? Didn't you go back to Eygpt?"

"Details!" Malik spun on his heel and returned to his cup of tea. "Now you never answered my question: would you like some tea?"

"Answered your question?" Ryou asked in disbelief but just as his temper was beginning to frazzle everything went a little fuzzy and Ryou wasn't about anymore.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo o

"What part of, 'Don't talk to the host' does your simple mind not understand?" Bakura barked once he was in full control again.

"Ah~ you're awake. Took your time, didn't you?" Malik refused to look behind him to face who he now knew to be Bakura. Instead, he focused on his tea, which was much stronger than the last one he had but still not quite right… Maybe it needed more sugar? No… Maybe he should try it with milk?

"Are you even bloody listening to me?!"

Malik huffed and put the mug back on the kitchen table, placing his now free hand on his hip and turned to face Bakura with an utterly bored expression. "I'm to live in his home and not speak to him? That hardly seems fair,"

"Malik… the kid has been my home since he was ten-years-old, I'm sure he is more than familiar with unfairness,"

Malik faltered at that. Bakura was willingly admitting his way wasn't the righteous way? Hm, well there was a first time for everything, right? However as Malik gazed over Bakura's tense face he wondered if maybe this wasn't the first time. Aha! It wasn't.

"You have a tendency to protect your host, don't you?" Malik flipped the topic with ease, watching as Bakura's face turned from anger to mild annoyance.

"What are you on about, now?"

"Back in Battle City," Malik tapped a finger to his chin as if trying to recall something, "you refused to let me use Ryou's body as a sacrifice in our duel against the Pharaoh."

"Firstly that was not our duel that was my duel. And I chose to play it my way," the spirit growled lowly, apparently unaware of the sudden conversation diversion.

"And you lost it just the same~" Malik hummed. "Now, are you going to be as indecisive as your host or would you like some tea?"

Bakura didn't give Malik an answer, at least not a verbal one.

However, he did reply with a particularly loud slammed door as he exited the room.