A/N: I'm being a bit loosey-goosey with the continuities here, since there's so many differences between both the manga and the anime as well as the sub vs the dub and all of them have elements I like and elements I dislike. Technical crit is 5 billion% welcome, but since this is my first fic I'm just being completely self-indulgent with the plot. Don't sweat it too much unless I make a really silly mistake or contradict myself.

Takes place a while prior to Battle City. AU. Shadi decides to take matters into his own hands and eliminate the spirit of the Ring before he causes any more trouble. Meanwhile, Ryou sees something he really shouldn't have. Tender/Stockholmship. Other pairings undecided.

Warning, has brief claustrophobic imagery. Otherwise standard warning for violence, language etc.


In the moments before he woke up alone and surrounded by darkness, Ryou could've sworn he saw the spirit of the Ring baring his teeth at the trespasser. A man in a turban, looking both too young and far, far too old at the same time.

He'd appeared out of nowhere as Ryou fixed himself tea, pointed a comically large key at Ryou's head without a word, then suddenly they were no longer in Ryou's apartment. Sort of. Ryou could somehow still feel the scratch of the frayed carpet against his cheek, had felt himself falling to the ground and heard the mug he'd been carrying shatter.

There were two Ryous. Or rather, Ryou and the spirit who wore his skin with a face twisted in fury, standing in a green void and clouds swirling at his feet. Before Ryou could react to the sight of seeing the spirit again - 'in the flesh' so to speak - the stranger materialized between them, key now safely back at his side.

"The Ring may have marked you as its destined master, but this creature has tested my patience for the last time. Begone, boy. I will return for your soul room shortly."

And that, as far as the stranger was concerned apparently, was that as the darkness surrounded him. He was entirely cut off from the spirit, a freedom he would've killed for before. Now that he'd apparently gotten his wish, all he could feel was panic. Who was this man? Why was the spirit so angry? What did he want?

Where had he been sent?

Ryou was no stranger to wandering the recesses of his mind at this point and he liked to think he'd memorized at least a few notable landmarks. Like the part where the green void became a murky turquoise, or the particular swirls of fog that meant a sudden drop into nothingness, or that one dot of red that reminded him of a loose pixel on a monitor. This complete and utter darkness however was something he'd never seen before. Perhaps he'd crossed over into the other Bakura's mind. Or maybe this was where all his 'lost time' went, memories discarded by the spirit so Ryou would never know what had been done in his body. Small mercies from the spirit, he supposed.

Or maybe, he was in the Ring itself.

The air grew warmer, drier and mustier as he walked for what felt like hours. Slowly, so slowly he almost thought his eyes were just playing tricks at first, the path began to define itself. The echo of his bare feet on stone, a narrow passage with unyielding stone walls that at times forced him to exhale before moving else he get stuck. Dust and cobwebs coated him from head to toe. Eventually the path widened, turned to spiraling steps beneath his feet, steep and narrow and crumbling at the edges.

He could tell he was going down. How far, he didn't know. The urge to turn back grew with every step, but so did the urge to stay as far away from the man with the key as possible. Plus, he was simply curious. His mother had warned him this would be the death of him someday.

At the bottom of what he could only pray was the last coil of the steps, lights flickered. The orange warmth of a fire, perhaps a torch. He could barely keep up with his own feet as he bolted for it. Ryou found himself in another stone corridor dotted with torches, this one ending with one room that bathed the walls in warm orange. He blinked at the sudden brightness, then quietly swore as the dirt on his face fell into his eyes.

As he rubbed his eyes, he could hear something that wasn't his own breathing for once, which he only then noticed had grown so rapid and shallow he thought he would faint.

The rumbling crackle of a fire far larger than the torches on the walls. Screams, curses and children and adults alike crying in fear. The screech of metal against metal. Above it all, the incessant droning of an old man speaking - no, chanting.

Ryou took a deep breath and stepped forward.


Bakura could only growl at the man - Shadi - as his host's soul blinked out of sight. He'd forgotten that it wasn't just the Rod that was capable of entering someone's mind. Part of him had always wondered if his presence shielded the host from outsiders besides himself. Apparently not, judging by the steely glare that followed his every move. Shit.

"The boy is safe within the Ring - once I am finished here, he will once again have full control of his own body. The conclusion of this battle has already been decreed by fate. Spirit, you will interfere no longer."

"Eat a dick!"

A harsh beam of light erupted from the Ring on his chest shooting straight for the invader. A similar beam intercepted it from the Key, but he knew he still held the advantage. On his own turf and without having to limit himself lest the host be caught in the crossfire, Bakura didn't have to hold back at all.

At least, until the second beam shot out from Shadi's side, which caught and ignited his sleeve as he dodged. The air itself seemed to hum as a second millennium item emerged and materialized itself in the invader's free hand. Bakura tore off the sweater before the fire could spread and spat at the ground where it burned to ashes.

The Scales.

Bakura cursed his host for hiding the Eye in a box under the bed when he'd discovered it, as well as himself for not forcing control and retrieving the item sooner. If it had only stayed in his pocket! Shadi focused both beams at him, his expression infuriatingly blank for someone who was facing the embodiment of darkness.

Two items against only his Ring quickly took its toll. Bakura felt his knees buckle and he sank to the floor, the light from his Ring winking out of existence.

"It is over, Spirit. Return to the shadows of your birth and may you never-"

The void around them shuddered and shook, sending Shadi flat on the ground. The almost deafening pulse of a heart beat, rapid with adrenaline. A familiar presence filled the air and the temperature plummeted around the two combatants.

I'm surprised at your timing Host, but surely it'd be in your best interests to let him win. Where were you?

Silence greeted him.

Host. Answer me, I know he hasn't bound your tongue.

Be quiet.

If Bakura had been a pathetic mortal, he might've cowered at the voice that echoed through his very bones. He'd never heard such venom, such unrestrained fury in his host's voice. Even when he'd discovered the Eye in his possession and almost threw the Ring into a sewer.

He could see Shadi glancing around as if trying to find the host - evidently he could hear that voice as well. Judging by the growing paleness that spread across his face, Bakura might just have his advantage back.

Part of the void behind Shadi began to split and fragment, revealing the host who stumbled as he walked towards the two. Bakura could see grime that stained his whole body, the sweater he always wore torn and frayed almost to nothing. He was trembling, hands clenched into fists so tightly Bakura wondered if he'd start seeing blood trickle from his palms. He'd been crying, judging by the smeared tracks under his eyes. What the hell had he seen in the depths of the Ring?

Whatever it was, his face was blank now, almost as blank as Shadi's had been as he took in the sight of Bakura and the intruder. At least, until he laid eyes on the Key and Scales.

The void erupted and shattered around them, barbed wire like striking snakes trapping Shadi completely. The wire squeezed at his arms, puncturing his flesh and threatening to break bone. A tempest of burning hot wind and dust burst around them, thick with the stench of molten metal. Why it made Bakura want to retch, he didn't know.

Eventually, Shadi had to yield. The Scales and the Key fell from his hands and Bakura wasted no time in snatching them up, taking no small measure of glee in Shadi's choked protests even as the winds burned him. He couldn't ignore such an opportunity, even with his host's bizarre behavior.

(Where did you find this strength, I wonder...)

With the items safely away from Shadi, the tempest surrounding roared and somehow picked up speed. His turban was soon snatched away and even from his distance Bakura could see the grit eroding his skin. The tempest did nothing to the host as he approached Shadi however, as if he were the eye of the storm. The host crouched in front of Shadi, his face hidden as his hair fell forward, unaffected by the raging gusts. He said nothing.

"Child, listen to me. What you saw within the Ring wasn't the truth. This thief will ravage your mind and the world unless I defeat him here and now. Release my bonds and you could have a normal life again, free from this madman."

Shadi's pleas seemed to trigger a reaction in the host. He surged forward, grabbing his hair and pulling Shadi's face close to his. A single length of the wire crept along his arm and wrapped around Shadi's neck. Finally, he spoke, his voice suddenly back to his normal softness as dead silence fell around them.

Tell me how the Millennium items were made.

Bakura stopped breathing.


Ryou blinked and he was back in his apartment, face planted firmly on the floor. Steam rose from the spilled tea, staining the already stained carpet further. Methodically, he picked up the shards of his mug and threw them away. He blotted the tea with a dish rag.

He checked that the front door was locked, twice, then another time just to be sure. Then he turned out all the lights and crawled under his bed. There was a box hidden there, behind the scattered pages of a dozen rejected Monster World concepts and old manga.

The Millennium Eye did nothing as he picked it up. No pulse of ancient energy, or the groping threads of some ancient spirit desperate for contact. It continued to do nothing as he moved it to a much larger box, one that now held the Key and the Scales, which were also silent. Covering the artifacts with some spare sheets, he pushed it back under his bed.

Ryou sat still for a while after that, staring at nothing in particular. It felt like hours, more than long enough for Bakura to get tired of waiting for him to do something. He usually kept their soul rooms closed off from each other, cutting off communication entirely. Now seemed as good a time as any to open up.

Host.

Host?

Say something.

... Is there really anything to say, Spirit?

Call me Bakura. For what it's worth, I would've told you myself. One day.

Alright. But you're lying.

Oh?

It's okay. I don't know why, but I can see why you wouldn't like talking about that, especially to someone like me.

Oh.

How... how could they do that to their own people? Even the children!

That's easy, they stopped thinking of them as people. It happens all the time - hell, it's probably happening right now somewhere. Children don't stay children forever. They grow up and seek vengeance on the ones who wronged them.

What kind of shitty excuse for a pharaoh doesn't question an entire village vanishing the same night the Millennium items appear?! That priest, he said to keep it secret from the pharaoh...

Did you just swear?

... Sorry.

Don't get all coy with me, host. I just watched you shred someone's soul into chunks. Relax, I've never heard you talk like that before, that's all.

...

And it clearly wasn't the ENTIRE village. I'm still here.

...

Y'know, I think this makes you the first person in thousands of years to learn the truth about these items.

I am?

Yeah. Gotta say, it was pretty impressive.

W-what?!

What did I just say about relaxing? I'm talking about your rage. It's the same rage that's kept me going all this time. You were destined to wear this ring - it makes sense we'd react the same way.

Thank you...?

Don't mention it.

I'm sorry, by the way. For making you relive those memories.

... I'll be fine. In fact, I feel better for it. It was a timely reminder of what this is all for.

Right.

Tomorrow, we make plans for the remaining items. You get to bed.

But...

I won't let you dream, I promise.

I can see their faces.

What?

Not the villagers. I see my friends. Amane. My father. They're reaching out to me to help them but I can't! I just can't! All I can do is sit there and pray I don't get spotted and pulled in with them!

The Ring flashed and Bakura stood alone in the apartment. His host was - no. He'd earned his name. Ryou was damn near hysterical in his soul room, so much so that it was affecting their body. He couldn't blame him though.

Oh, that rage was certainly something he knew well, that much wasn't a lie. But Ryou didn't know how right he was when he accused Bakura of lying. When had he forgotten the slaughter and desecration of his people? When had he forgotten that he'd forgotten?

Why couldn't he remember anything else?

He sighed and reached into his pocket with trembling fingers, drawing out Ryou's deck and rifling through it. 'Invitation to a Dark Sleep' might do the trick. The shadows swarmed around him like a warm blanket, flowing through his body and into Ryou's soul room. In seconds, the boy was out cold. The robed figure on the card appeared before Bakura, bowing as it faded away. Of course, that meant he couldn't switch back without cancelling the card's effect and reawakening his exhausted host.

Both their souls had been stretched to near breaking point today. It wasn't something he felt like repeating every again.

Until tomorrow, then.