Bakura could bear it no longer.
The yami had taken control of Ryou's body for a few days (how many, he didn't care to remember), and in the midst of scheming for his next encounter with the blasted pharaoh, his stomach released an infuriated gurgle. The gurgle evolved into an unpleasant bubbling a few hours later. At the moment, painful blasts that vaguely reminded Bakura of cramps forced him to stumble his way over to Ryou's refrigerator.
As his luck would have it, the damn thing was bare excepting vanilla frosting and a half empty bottle of wasabi.
The yami flipped a middle finger back towards whichever god cursed him to be hungry without any food, smashed Ryou's piggy bank with a strange sense of accomplishment, and left the apartment with his pockets bulging with change (Ryou made such a fuss when he borrowed anything, even essentials like knives, rope, cards, and the occasional eyeball).
After an unremarkable stroll to the market, Bakura entered through the automatic doors with a dramatic flair as the air conditioning rushed outside and blew his white hair up and behind him. He nearly laughed when a small child timidly reached for her mother's hand at the sight of the villain. Instead, the yami sauntered to the coolers at the end of the store.
Bakura stifled a yawn as he compared prices of different steak cuts. Grocery shopping was too mundane for a king. "Why am I subjecting myself to this?" he mumbled grouchily. How did Ryou do this once a week? The words were blurring together and smashing a certain pharaoh's head in seemed far more appealing than-
Oh, Ryou.
The yami allowed a wicked grin to cross his features before viciously ejecting Ryou from his soul room. The Millennium Ring gave a showy flash and dragged Bakura back to his respective bondage.
Lost. Confused. Hungry.
Ryou brought a shaky hand to his forehead. "Where did my yami leave me now?" he murmured as his senses crept back into focus. Much to his displeasure, the first item his eyes zeroed in on was the leg in his grasp.
The plastic covered thigh dropped with a sickening plop back onto the pile of various meats. Out of all the body parts Ryou half expected to encounter while living with his yami, a lamb's choicest cuts were at the bottom of his mental list. Nevertheless, he backed away from the creepy animal parts
And tripped over his untied shoelace.
Change spilled and rolled out of his overstuffed pockets all throughout the isle. Ryou allowed himself to blink in discontent before twisting off his back and scrambling after the escaping coins. His ears turned scarlet when he mentally heard Bakura laughing his ass off at his predicament.
As his hand clapped over the last coin, Ryou grinned in victory and looked up to find something to grasp and pull himself off the ground. His eyes caught sight of and locked their gaze on a clear box of pastries.
When his host took longer than expected to move, Bakura gave an unhurried glance through Ryou's eyes. The yami felt a sweat drop trail down the back of his neck.
"Oh hell no. You are not eating that crap," he chided mentally. Bakura could only imagine the wide, heart eyes Ryou was giving the cream puffs while a bit of saliva drooled out the corner of his mouth. "You have no control when it comes to those repellent sweets, and that leads to a stomachache you make ME deal with- Host? Are you listening to me?"
Ryou was already halfway to the checkout counter by the time Bakura realized his sweet-crazed host wasn't paying him the slightest attention. Feeling too lazy to continue arguing, the yami briefly hoped there was still some Pepto-Bismol in the medicine cabinet.
