Ryou sat back in his computer chair and gave a heavy sigh. He pulled off his bluetooth headset and put it on the desk for a moment. His ear ached and he needed a break from the charade for a few minutes. He put in that he needed a five minute break and got up to walk around his tiny apartment. The room was lined with bookshelves, but there were very few books on them. Mostly there were wood carvings: ducks, donkeys, geese, a few birds in flight, even a couple of horses. He had gotten very good at carving in the last couple of years, and it had gotten him through quite a few difficult customers. You would think that working at a place that sold fun would attract nicer customers, but that was never the case.

He had just gotten off the phone with a customer who had switched up their order at least fifteen times within a single hour. Of course his employer didn't mind how long it took to make a customer happy, only that they were in fact happy when they finally ended the phone call. Ryou wouldn't mind so much if it didn't mean that he had to keep up the cheerful facade for so very long. He could handle short bursts, but when it lasted a full hour, he found his nerves pushed to the limits. It was funny really, he had gotten away from Yugi's group because of the constant charade, then he found a job that required it. Somehow he was always being pulled into situations where he was forced to keep an upbeat, cheerful personality, perhaps because he had so much trouble acquiring it on his own.

Ryou stretched and heard several pops go up his spine, then opened the top drawer of his desk where a pile of carving knives lay. He dragged his fingers over a few until he found one that suited his mood, one of the thinner knives with a smooth, oak handle and a long blade. On top of his desk was a pile of wooden blocks. They had come in a pack of twenty or so, and were still neatly stacked on top of the cellophane they had arrived in. He pulled one down and slapped it onto the middle of his desk.

He stepped into his tiny kitchen and pulled a beer out of the fridge and took a swig. It was Friday afternoon and he only had a few hours left: the homerun stretch. He took another sip then sat down at his desk and replaced his earpiece. He picked up the knife and stabbed viciously at the piece of wood, missing a few times so that the knife dug deep ridges into the wooden desk. His desk was full of those holes. After a minute or so he stopped with his stabbing, then turned on the earpiece again and waited for the next call to come in.

It didn't take long. He took another sip from his beer before answering. "You've reached Graceful Unicorn Cruise Lines, the place where magical wishes are granted! My name is Ryou. Can I grant your wish by helping you set sail on a magical vacation today?"

There was a snicker of laughter on the other end. Great, a prank caller. He should have started drinking earlier. "Yes," said a familiar voice. "Do you have anything leaving Egypt?"

Ryou froze. His mouth went dry and the knife in his hand clattered to the desk. "Marik?"

He couldn't hide his laughter this time, "Hi Ryou. They said they would transfer me to you, but I didn't think it would be so quick!"

"How did you find me?" Ryou asked, feeling awkward suddenly and uncomfortable. He had gone through great lengths to not be found here, even going by a different last name. He should have known that Marik would still be able to find him. He had connections, resources, and a keen way of hunting people that both terrified and thrilled him at the same time.

"I think the hard part was figuring out the last name. Then I realized that ILLUSHU was the Egyptian name of one of his cards." Marik paused for a moment, "You never did get over him, did you?"

Get over him? Was that how Marik saw all of it? Ryou simply was so enthralled by the Spirit of the Ring that he couldn't move on? What a simplistic view! That might be more how Marik felt, but for Ryou it was entirely different. The very reference to the Thief made his anger boil up slowly like a crack of rock in a dry cliffside seeing lava bubble up. To Ryou, the Thief was more than a lost lover, he was like a spouse that left without ever saying good-bye. Worse than that though, because at least your spouse didn't share the same body with you. When the Thief abandoned him for that foolish romp through the Memory Tablet, Ryou was left alone and empty. He felt used and forgotten, and Marik's flippant attitude didn't help.

The worst part was that Ryou's extended silence only made Marik assume he was right. "Look, I'm sorry I brought it up. I just thought that you and he were-"

"Why are you calling me at work, Marik?" Ryou hoped the spite in his voice shocked him. He hoped it pulled him out of his comfort zone the way that Marik's call out of the blue had for him.

"There's been trouble with the Items," Marik's voice was smaller this time and it gave Ryou a small amount of enjoyment. "I don't want to say too much over the phone though. You understand."

"Of course," he whispered, his momentary enjoyment suddenly crashing into conflict. He thought that everything to do with the Items had been buried with them years ago. Maybe they were hoping to put them into a museum or something.

"I thought maybe we could get lunch together? What day are you free?"

The tilt in Marik's voice made it sound as though he was offering something more than just lunch, and Ryou felt a flush on his cheeks that quicly moved down to his groin. "Lunch? Like a date?"

He expected Marik to laugh. "Sure, why not?"

Ryou took a moment to respond, and realized that he was clutching the edge of his desk. "I don't suppose you're anywhere near Domino right now."

"No, but I can be."

The assuredness in Marik's voice did nothing to calm the burning inside of him. That was one of the many things he liked about Marik. When he set his sights on something, very little could stand in his way. Even the Thief couldn't refuse him. What hope did Ryou have?

He swallowed and his throat was dry. "Saturday then? Around eleven?"

"Sure. Is that sandwich place still down the street from the bar we used to go to?"

The memories flooded back instantly, late nights with flashing lights and pulsing bodies. Large leather booths with the Thief and Marik sitting so close they were practically on top of each other, Marik controlling waitresses and the Thief filching valuables. Sometimes Ryou felt like a third wheel during their long, raucous nights that always ended in a bedroom. Sometimes though he was encouraged out and more than once the Thief would switch out in the middle of sex. Ryou didn't mind it though. The suddenness of it made it all the more dangerous and exciting. It was such a very different life for him compared to now.

"Yes, it's still there."

"Great, I'll see you there then!"

"Alright," Ryou whispered and hung up. He laid his head down on his desk and exhaled. He wasn't sure whether or not he was glad for Marik to be back in his life, but he couldn't deny the old wounds as they reopened. Ryou had changed so much since they had last seen each other; had Marik changed too?