The old A/N said something about Narcissa being in character despite what you might think. I still stand by that. I think she's got a lot of maternal love, especially for Draco, but I think that it would extend to Ryou as well due to the circumstances. I think she is OOC to a certain extent, but it isn't that bad all things considered.

The thing is, as much as I changed, I'm still somewhat unsatisfied with how this chapter turned out. But if I want to stay on-schedule, I can't overhaul this chapter quite as I'd like, so this is what you get. I'd like to remove the card game, if possible, but that would take a few days to figure out how to make it work without it. So for now, it stays. Lucky you.

Edits: everything but the first few paragraphs, pretty much. Added a few scenes, completely overhauled a few others. Fixed places where it darted to Bakura POV. More Narcissa and a better character dynamic. Whole new bit with Bakura and Ryou. Dropped sub-plots I don't plan on doing anything with. More plot-hole-fill-in fun!

In a nutshell:

Japanese

English

/Yami to Hikari/

/Hikari to Yami/

/You will talk us out of this/ Bakura said.

/I know/

/You won't mention me stealing anything/

/I know/

/And for the love of Ra, don't screw this up/

/Please, Bakura, I know. I know. You don't have to tell me/

/Don't get pissy with me/

Ryou sighed. /I know/

Bakura shook his head. /Good/

Ryou settled deeper into the uncomfortable cushion, not liking the silence that filled the room and made the air so thick that it could probably be cut with a knife, à la Scooby Doo.

He, Bakura, Lucius, and Draco were all gathered in a drawing room of sorts, something that had, at first glance, resembled a casual living room, something one could find in any typical house. All of the archetypal niceties, a sofa or two with pillows, a roaring fire in a brazier of stone and steel, were there. But in Ryou's eyes, this didn't feel like a home. This was, for all intents and purposes, a show.

The couches that were arranged in a loose semi-circle before the hearth were stiff and highly decorative, as if they hadn't often been used by anyone. The eiderdown pillows were black, made of fine linen and embroidered with fanciful silver silk designs that were quite valuable looking. The hearth was as spotless as the day it had been built, and the fire inside the brazier crackled cheerlessly. Ryou had seen livelier funeral pyres in Bakura's memories.

It was cold and impersonal, like a charade of what it should have been, should have represented. Yet it did not. It wasn't welcoming; it chilled Ryou's heart to a tiny, shivering thing just by sitting there. He itched to leave, and would have huddled against Bakura in yearning for something familiar, if Bakura had been sitting down.

He tried to ignore the hungry, surveying look his yami cast around the room as he took in all of the treasures: the silver in great chests of colorful enamel that was shaped into intricate patterns where it was etched into wood, windows with chips of stained glass that revealed a pattern like a serpent, portraits in gilded white gold frames that seemed to move of their own volition, and so much more.

It was silent. The only noise he could hear was the quiet stirring of flames licking along a log, the golden embers lying in the dusty grey of wood white with ash. Even Bakura's footsteps were silent, but then, they always were. This was nothing new to Ryou.

He could smell the pungent creosote from the wood as the predominant scent in the air, mingling with the stench of adrenaline and the palpable tension that was pervasive around them. A shriveled creature in a dusty grey cloth pressed a china cup into his hand, steaming with a warm, strongly scented tea. It was all but ignored by the boy, though he unconsciously clutched it close to keep the warmth it provided against the chill (so prevalent in this old house) at bay.

A woman stepped into the boundary of the room, a robe wrapped around her slim frame and her eyes shadowed by the bruises of a medicated sleep. "Lucius, what was so important you had to wake me?" she asked, her tone less than pleased. She sat with a graceful descent onto a cushion near her husband. Her eyes took in the boys seated across from her with surprise tugging at her brows. Her jaw was set. "Ryou," she said simply, looking into the boy's soft emerald eyes that gleamed almost red in the flickering light thrown off by the fire.

"Ryou," Lucius replied with a small nod.

With a small cry she leapt to her feet, bounding steps taking her quickly to stand beside the snowy-haired duo. Her arms encircled Ryou, brushing against Bakura's limbs momentarily in the process. The latter shied away from the display of affection with a disgruntled expression, though Ryou accepted the gesture with surprised but tolerant poise. "Oh Ryou," she said, repeating his name with happiness laden on her lips. Her eyes twinkled merrily with joy, all but eliminating the typical bleak cheerlessness.

"Hello, Aunt Narcissa," Ryou said with a faintly amused tone to his voice. She stepped back from him, moving her hands to cup her palms around his face to get a better look at him. She tilted his face first left then right, as if she couldn't fully believe he was sitting in front of her. "How are you?" Her hands retreated to cover her mouth with a multi-layered 'X' of fingers. Hidden teeth sunk into her lip as she kept herself from saying anything impulsively as she retreated to sit beside Lucius again. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Is something wrong?" he asked kindly.

"Nothing's the matter," she said without much conviction. "It's just… it's been awhile since I've seen you, that's all." A plastic smile grew on her face and her tone had a note of hysteria edging it.

"Narcissa, let's not mince words. Ryou here is back and quite alive. Perhaps we should just leave it to him to clarify the situation." Lucius stared directly at Ryou, Bakura for the moment forgotten as he stood and strode around the room still entranced by the expensive things. They seemed to be in no immediate danger, or so the calm waves drifting over the mind-link seemed to imply. If Ryou knew these people and they hadn't yet realized they had been the intended victims of a heist, then all the better. He just wished he could understand what they were saying.

Ryou blinked once with uncertainty on his face. "What do you mean, alive? When have I been dead?" he asked.

"Your father told us as much six years ago. An awful man and a blood traitor, I never liked him much," Lucius grumbled.

"Six years?" Ryou asked. He swallowed thickly, and a bad feeling rolled through him. It was a dark, evil feeling, something that stung with a certain acrimony, like a bitter pill going down his throat. He knew Bakura could feel it, because his darkness stopped slipping things into his pockets and turned just enough to look at Ryou.

"Your father said everyone died in that accident," Narcissa sniffed. "Truly a tragedy."

Ryou's eyes fell to the rich persian rug on the floor, his breath hitching slightly in his chest at the memory. "I'd rather not talk about it," he said softly, his voice cracking once.

"Well that's hardly fair," Draco drawled. "You come to my father's house in the dead of night and refuse to tell us what happened?"

"Quiet, Draco," Lucius snapped.

The raw feeling grew worse. Bakura actually looked over at Ryou this time, confusion on his face. What had his yadonushi so freaked out? Clearly something was very wrong, as that terrible sentiment roiled through the mind-link and stung Bakura's gut like his own guilt. It was a very familiar sort of pain to him.

/Yadonushi, I demand to know what's going on/ Bakura ordered, projecting the thought as clearly as possible so Ryou could hear him even in his nascent state. /Who are these people? What do they want? And don't you dare attempt to try those shitty lies your so-called 'friends' willingly eat up like Ra-given wisdom. I'd like to know if I must kill them so you don't get me into trouble. Again/ The last part was said with a quick, heavy inflection, as if to emphasize how vital it was.

Ryou frowned at the rug and sniffled. /Well… This, this is my family/ he said with some consternation. /Extended family at any rate/

/And? Are they pissed at you or something? Are we in trouble after all? You didn't tell them I was stealing, did you?/

/No! Of course not!/

/Then what's wrong?/

Ryou's grimace deepened and his brows dipped low to hood his eyes with partially closed lids. His chin wobbled faintly. Moisture welled into his eyes. /They thought I was dead. All this time, they thought I had died along with…/ Ryou let the thought trail off with an internal choking sob, though he bit it back before it could escape. That sentence didn't need to be finished; Bakura already knew exactly what he was referring to.

/Ra-damn, hikari, you're too soft-hearted sometimes. Are they going to do something with us or not?/ Bakura said. His sour face was likewise contorted, though his was more impatience than sadness. He wrung his sticky fingers through his knuckles, and a sickening crack was heard as the joints popped. He smirked in satisfaction.

Ryou wiped the sole tear from his eye and glared at Bakura. /I doubt it/ he said simply, miffed and yet mollified slightly but Bakura's curt response. /But that's all you care about isn't it? That your perfect record stays untarnished/

/But of course, yadonushi. That's all a thief like me really has left, after all. Love dies, but treasures are eternal/ Bakura responded with a sweeping gesture and a cheshire grin on his lips. /And you know how I live to thieve/

Ryou rolled his eyes at his yami. /Because it has nothing to do with the fact that you just stole some of the silver and don't want to be discovered, does it?/ he said sarcastically.

Bakura rested a thumb and forefinger on his chin in a thoughtful pose, his eyes rolling to gaze at the ceiling as if trying to remember whether that was the reason or not. The shit-eating smirk, though, told Ryou that he had guessed correctly. Ryou smiled a little in spite of himself. Then he beat the smile back. /No, bad Bakura. Put it back/ he scolded.

Bakura scowled at him and pouted. /No/ he said, turning his head. He scrunched his nose like a petulant child and crossed his arms in front of chest. Ryou found himself giggling a little at the childish display. His yami only glared unhappily again.

"What are you doing?" Lucius asked Ryou.

Ryou flinched, eyes flashing over to his uncle and looking embarrassed. He had legitimately forgotten the others in that short moment, and was sure that they probably thought he was crazy.

"N-nothing," he said. "Just telling Bakura to behave. I don't think he'll listen to me, though."

"Is your friend a Bakura as well? I thought you were an only child," Lucius said. Narcissa sniffed once, and Ryou caught a frightened glint reflecting off her eyes like firelight. Ryou's spine straightened immediately. She knew something that Lucius did not, but what it was Ryou couldn't say. He had a couple of ideas, but neither were attractive. He didn't like this at all. He felt Bakura's gaze land heavily on him again.

"He's... Bakura is..." Ryou started, unsure of how to finish the statement. What was Bakura to him, that he could tell these people? Certainly he couldn't say 'malignant inhabitant of the ring he wore around his neck', nor could he say 'the one who tried to steal from you'. "A brother?" he said nervously. The word didn't describe Bakura at all, but it would have to do for now. It was the only one that came to Ryou's mind, considering how nothing could really sum up the complicated relationship they shared.

Ryou nodded to himself, growing a bit more confident. He hated lying, but it wasn't that far off. Enough that he could punish himself for it later and keep himself out of trouble with his spirit, anyway. They were kinda-sorta related, in the sense that Ryou was half of Bakura's soul reincarnated. He could make do with that.

/Oh, the lengths you go to in order to avoid deceit/ Bakura sighed. /It would be easier to lie/ Ryou ignored the comment as best he could.

"But he doesn't speak a word of English. He doesn't have the slightest clue what we're saying. Isn't that right Bakura?" he asked, turning to Bakura. /Say something/

"Why should I?" Bakura asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets conspicuously.

"That's all I need," Ryou said with a sweet smile. "See? Japanese. Not very social, either. But he won't bother you if you don't bother him, I promise. He just wants to go. Actually, I think we should probably take our leave now. It's pretty late." He was interrupted by the large grandfather clock, its melodic chime rolling through the air just once. The clanging of bells formed a wavering, mournful knell as the peal echoed lightly in the room. More than one head turned to listen.

Draco yawned, his lips stretching into a thin, taut 'O' before the chips of white that were his magically straight teeth. Narcissa kneaded at her eyes with knuckles that were heavy with scented lotion. Lucius seemed to be showing signs of exhaustion as well, his eyes bleary and tinged faintly pink. He stared directly at Bakura.

"One AM," Narcissa said softly, her eyes directed at the clock's face. "Lucius, why don't we ask Ryou to stay the night? I'm sure there will be plenty of time for explanations in the morning."

Lucius nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off Bakura, which Ryou found a bit suspicious. He didn't say anything, since one look from Bakura had Lucius turning back to his wife, but Ryou did wonder what Lucius was thinking.

"Ryou, would you care to stay the night? I'm sure we can figure this all out tomorrow, darling," Narcissa said.

Ryou glanced at Bakura. The yami seemed to be fidgeting where he stood, undeniably anxious to leave.

Lucius snapped to immediately. "Are you sure, Narcissa? The meeting-" Lucius began, but was silenced by his uncharacteristically assertive wife's hand raising just high enough to catch his attention, a gesture stating plainly 'stop'.

"Ryou, please stay with us for the night," she begged.

"I don't have any of my things," Ryou said, the lame excuse rolling honestly from his lips. He didn't really want to stay. It made him feel bad, but he'd be lying even more if he said he enjoyed it with the Malfoys.

He couldn't shake the strange feeling he was getting from this place. It was as if something dark were waiting in the wings to descend from some hidden niche and rob him of his life, something that, in all fairness, reminded Ryou of Bakura in the strange sense of the malignant undercurrents running through them. There was that same coldness, a similar faceted diamond exterior that reflected everything and felt nothing.

Ryou forced a tiny, falsely-tired laugh. "And I couldn't just impose on you."

"It would be no imposition at all!" she protested. "Lucius, tell him. We can always retrieve his things in the morning."

Lucius seemed to have to think about it for a few minutes, but Narcissa's pleading motherly eyes slowly began to sway him. "Ryou, we insist you and your... brother stay for the the night," Lucius said, eyes watching Bakura out the corners as he stood whistling.

Ryou blinked at them for a moment, and nodded slowly. "Well... if you insist..." he replied meekly. /Bakura, we're staying the night/ he informed his yami.

/What? Why?/ Bakura growled back. /I just pocketed a couple thousand dollars worth of stuff and you tell me we aren't walking out with it?/

Ryou looked at his aunt and uncle, the two shuffling Draco out of the room with questions of 'why were you even up this late, Draco?' and 'have you been up all this time?'. Narcissa gave him the smallest of smiles and beckoned to him.

/I guess so?/ The response sounded more like a question than an answer. Ryou followed his relatives out of the room and glanced back to Bakura. /Are you coming?/

/Yeah, yeah, don't get a stick up your ass/ Bakura grumbled, following unhappily. /If I leave now, you'll probably find some way to get us both in trouble. We can leave when they go back to sleep. Annoying, but you haven't ruined everything yet/ Ryou started to smile. /I said yet. There's still time for you to ruin the rest of it/ Ryou's smile soured quickly, and he left to follow his aunt.

They were shown the way upstairs with little further ado, Narcissa's sweeping hand gesturing to a door located in a wing just slightly off from the main hall. Inside the door was a room with walls of dark mauve accented with hints of an understated and elegant grey.

She paused outside the door, glancing down the hall as if making sure that her husband and son were not around. There was a sort of urgency in the way she did this. She fixed her cool, unshakable gaze on Ryou.

"He isn't your brother, is he?" It wasn't really a question, not from the way that she said it. She knew. There was no room to deny it.

Ryou shook his head. "No. Not really."

"Is he a Bakura? A Black? Is his blood even pure?"

That Bakura's blood was pure was indubitable, if you didn't think of it quite the same as Narcissa did- he was the original shadow mage, a man who twisted shadows and magic to his will thousands of years before Narcissa's ancestors were born. There was nobody with magic more deeply ingrained into the core of his being than the spirits of the millennium items. But Ryou couldn't say that. Not without telling the Malfoys everything, which he couldn't do without sounding crazy.

The Malfoys knew magic, but not the kind that the shadows wrought.

Time for more creative lying, Ryou supposed. Stick to the facts, that was all. "He is a Bakura. And his blood is pure, as far as I know. I mean, he is related to me, but only because of Dad. He isn't a Black. Also, he's... very powerful. Very magical. And... he does what he wants. He might disappear without warning. Just so you know," Ryou said. He grinned, very proud of himself.

/You're proud that you told the truth using a bunch of useless facts. Congratulations/ Bakura said dryly. Ryou could really do without Bakura's sarcasm, but it was inescapable.

"What about... what about my sister?" Narcissa asked, looking almost frightened to even mention it. Ryou's heart sank in his chest like the Titanic into frigid waters and misery.

"She's... Dad wasn't lying. Not about that. I- I don't know what he said to you about it. But Mom is with Amane. I mean, they're both- they're... not here. Not anymore."

"Ryou..." Narcissa said. "I have this strange feeling that you're not going to be here in the morning." Ryou stared at the floor. "Please, Ryou. Don't leave. I loved your mother. I would hate to let her child go just like that."

A tremor shook Ryou. A guilt trip. A plea for him to stay. Narcissa using the position of his mother's twin sister as leverage against him. He wasn't able to look her in the eyes, but when he finally did, he found himself trapped in their pleading depths.

"You can tell me, you know." For a moment, he thought she was asking about how his mother and sister had died, but he wrong. Narcissa continued in a tremulous sort of tone, "You can tell me how you got into the manor, and why, and who your friend is. I don't have to tell Lucius if you don't want me to. I never told him about Amane, like I promised my sister. I loved Lucretia, and I love her son." Ryou had to rub his eye to keep it from misting over. "Please, Ryou. Help me understand."

Ryou sniffed and tore his eyes away. "It- it's late. I should get to bed," he said. "I'm sorry. I- I can't."

"It's fine," Narcissa said. She looked a bit disappointed. "Goodnight Ryou. And tell your... brother... to have a pleasant sleep as well."

"I will," Ryou promised. "Goodnight, Aunt Narcissa."

Ryou ducked inside and found Bakura already collapsing into the bed, sinking low into the mattress and dissipating slowly. Flecks of his body simply vanished, siphoned into the nothingness of the shadow realm as the magic holding them together was released. The indent in the mattress filled itself in as Bakura became the spirit he usually was. Bakura groaned quietly, his voice fading to something only Ryou could hear as he became something only Ryou could see.

"You," Bakura began as he lifted his head, "are overly emotional tonight."

"Well, I'm sorry we aren't all emotionless jerks like you. Some of us actually have feelings," Ryou snapped with a tiny sniffle. Bakura lifted an eyebrow, sending Ryou scrambling. "I mean, I- no! That's not what I meant. I'm not- I mean-"

"Oh, whatever, Hikari. I'm not angry. Don't get so upset about everything. That pisses me off more than you showing what little backbone you do have." Bakura sighed again, looking exhausted. "So this family of yours. Explain it. All I'm getting is weird, jumbled emotions from you. Nothing makes sense. Actually, it's making me feel nauseous. Not a good feeling. How do they even have magic? I can't believe the shadows would listen to people like them."

"Sorry, Bakura," Ryou said. "The Malfoys are... well... magical, like you. Except, not at all like you. I was wondering why it felt so familiar. It feels strange to me. I mean, I grew up around it, but... Maybe I'm just used to the shadows now."

"Rambling," Bakura said, and Ryou refocused quickly.

"Right. Well, Aunt Narcissa is my mother's twin. They're... I think it's called wizards. Anou, witches, for women, I mean. I forget, it's like Monster World sometimes, so I get mixed up on the details. I don't remember most of them, anyway. I was so young... But, it's magic. A different magic, not like yours at all. I think its hereditary. Dad has it too, it's why he's in Egypt all the time. I don't remember what he does there, but I think it's important. I mean, he says what he does is important. I don't know why he would lie..."

"He would lie because he's the world's biggest douche," Bakura said, getting a withering look from Ryou for his troubles. "But go back to the stupid-magic. Your dad has it. Your mom had it? Why don't you have it? You're so... weak."

So Bakura didn't know, Ryou realized. "It was blocked off. I don't have it, and I haven't since I was little. Dad had someone seal it and sent me to a private school after... well, you know."

"I take it that is the 'accident' that makes you get even more irritatingly emotional than you already are?"

Ryou nodded. "Yeah. I was fine for a few years. I mean, I was an emotional wreck, but I liked being able to just forget about magic. And I did. But then Dad sent me the ring, and well, the rest you know. Comas, black-outs, your numerous unsuccessful attempts at destroying the Pharaoh."

"Hey, why wasn't I ever informed of this magic before? I could have used it to defeat that moron," Bakura said, almost sulkily.

"Because it's good magic. The only time it hurts people is on accident," Ryou said. "It helps, and heals. It isn't the shadows. You wouldn't like it anyway."

"Every goodness had a bad side. Every light has a shadow, and a darkness lurking inside. You of all people should know this better than anyone, Hikari-mine. I'm sure I could find a way to corrupt this 'good' magic you adore so much."

"I'm sure you could," Ryou said, sticking his tongue out. "But I don't have it anyway. And I'd appreciate the Malfoys not knowing. I have a bad feeling about it. And I want to find out why Dad told them I was dead, too," Ryou added as an afterthought.

"I'd like that, too..." Bakura said with a certain menace.

"Please, Bakura. I don't know why you always want to kill my dad, but please don't. I love him."

"Your asshole dad, your irritating friends, the random people on the street that piss me off, is there anyone you don't get pissy about me maiming?"

"I don't like people getting hurt," Ryou said simply. "Is that too much to ask?"

"Yes," Bakura said in all seriousness. He sighed and let his face fall onto the bed.

"Tired?" Ryou asked him gently.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Bakura groaned back. He didn't look up from where his face was buried in the coverlet. "You know, I didn't think it would take that much out of me to get past the gate. And now we're stuck here because you're an emotional wreck."

Ryou let slip a tiny smile. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say the great King of Thieves is making excuses."

Bakura lifted his head and glared venomously at Ryou over his shoulder. "For a Hikari, you can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."

"It's my job," he replied sweetly, batting innocent green eyes at Bakura. Bakura only growled. Little more was said. "Well, after all that trouble, I have to know. Did you at least get it? That bone-thing you came for?" Ryou asked after a long period of tense silence.

/You doubt me, yadonushi?/ Bakura asked, switching to the mind-link. He sat up and drew a brilliant green rock from his pocket, letting it glitter in the low light. He examined the stone between his thumb and forefinger with a critical eye before tossing it gently to Ryou. /Fair job, hikari. I'm impressed. You did well, until the end. I actually didn't think you had it in you/ Ryou blinked in surprise at the Bakura-complement, stopping just in time to intercept the new treasure. It sailed in a perfect arc through the air, and landed lightly in Ryou's reflexively opened palm.

He stared. This was a bone? It seemed more like a flawless, massive emerald, nearly an inch long and carved into a delicately fanged snake head. Its teeth arched from the realistic carving's mouth as if they were real and ready to inject some lethal toxin into its next victim's body. The rock, however, seemed to be only the diamond-shaped head, and Ryou had to wonder where the rest of it was.

"Last time I checked, Bakura, gemstones weren't bones!" Ryou informed him. "What is this even for anyway?"

/If your ancestors had a reason to call a gem a bone, you can trust I have one as well. Now don't worry, I'll show you tomorrow. Or as soon as we get out of here, whichever comes first/

"I might be emotional, but you're being exceptionally cagey tonight," Ryou pointed out scathingly.

/Get used to it, hikari/ Bakura said, but the glare was replaced by a small, derisive smirk. He fell back into the mattress and relaxed, disappearing completely from sight with a low chuckle. The bed was left completely clear. Only a split-second later, Ryou could feel the familiar pressure of Bakura's subconscious weigh on his mind, and he laid down on the bed without changing out of the completely black outfit. It would serve no purpose to do so, all of his things were back at the B&B.

He wasn't comfortable in the least. It was still extremely cold in the house, and unlike the other room, there was no fire to warm his bones what little it had. His exhaustion-heavy limbs prickled with goosebumps from the chill and shook faintly now that no motion kept the frigid rigor at bay. He tossed and turned restlessly for the better half of an hour because of this.

But tired as he was, he couldn't get a wink of sleep. That blissful escape to nothingness he so longed for doggedly evaded his heavy eyelids as his mind rocked with its torrent of turmoil. He didn't know why they were here, really, past the retrieval of the 'bone', and had no clue what Bakura needed that silly little gem for, nor why Bakura had unwittingly chosen tonight of all nights to bring Ryou with him, when he was thieving from the family Ryou hadn't seen in many years.

And why couldn't Bakura have just taken the cane and brought it back? Bakura didn't seem particularly upset on the outside, but Ryou figured that inside his darker half was positively fuming. Of course, there was no way to really know because Bakura had always been better than the already fairly good Ryou at both closing off the mind-link and hiding his true feelings behind a clever mask indistinguishable from his normal features. He was so good Ryou even had to sometimes wonder if he even had emotions at all. But hate was an emotion, and Bakura certainly hated the Pharaoh, so he had to feel something at least.

Ryou found himself wishing for his beloved sleeping pills. He didn't need them often, only when the darkness and grief made it impossible to rest otherwise, but if there was ever a time for them, now was it. Pity those were back home, or at least in the suitcase if Bakura been considerate enough to pack them, a fact of which Ryou seriously doubted. They didn't do him much good where they were. That left him with but one option, the one trick he didn't enjoy pulling to lull him to sleep. His soul room.

Ryou still had issues with his soul room from the dueling tournament circuit in which Bakura had initiated countless plans for world domination. It was also plain uncomfortable for him to visit. It was almost an out-of-body experience trapped inside of his own head. And it was also where Bakura happened to be at his most powerful. But when no one was in possession of his body, he naturally slipped into a sleep-like state, and that would have to suffice. His jet-lagged body seemed to particularly enjoy reminding him of just how little sleep he'd had.

He and the other hikaris had once discussed their soul rooms and found few similarities amongst them. The differences between each of them were as numerous as the differences between day and night, hikari and yami. Rooms were a reflection of personality and life experiences, the closeness of the inhabitants with those they loved.

It was why Yuugi's was a child's playroom while Atemu's was a confusing, Labyrinth-like room that was as convoluted as his thoughts as to who he was.

But they had separate rooms, were separate people. Malik and Mariku perfectly shared an underground tomb for a soul room, as Mariku was a manifestation of all of Malik's hate. He just happened to be able to wield the millennium rod better than Malik himself.

But their room fit them, with its gap in the ceiling showing a patch of blue skies and enough torches to satiate an angry lynch mob for years. Their history decorated the walls in hieroglyphics. It made sense as much as Yuugi and Atemu's did. All of Malik's old fears and hatred were buried safely away in there, trapped on those walls where the firelight could always illuminate the darkness.

Ryou and Bakura, however, had an especially peculiar room. It looked just like a person's bedroom, although twisted by what could only be described as a mockery of a mirror. It was, in fact, only one room, separated down the middle by a translucent barrier, invisible unless one were to touch it. Then, the walls lit up faintly and made the small patch that had been contacted visible. Although it wasn't particularly necessary, as it was fairly obvious where the barrier stood.

On either side, the room had a stark difference. Ryou's side had walls and floors of pure white, and everything seemed to be lit from within, including the furniture yet excluding the bed, which had the barrier running directly down the middle of it. His side had black silk sheets and a matching pillow, yet his half of the headboard was still a snowy white. Any and all accents were of a pale blue color. His side was neat and organized, almost obsessively so.

The walls were also hung with familiar portraits from various times. Drawings of faintly smudged charcoal and photographs of times gone by were mementos of another lifetime, one he still wasn't fully sure he had escaped from yet. He knew that his sister and mother were long gone, buried in a cemetery not far from here, and that the pictures hanging inside his head by little blue thumbtacks were all that he had left to remember them.

But the portraits, the red-toned paper coated liberally in the black and white pencil, were the same sort of distressed balance of light and dark still waging war inside his head. Frenetic scribbles made up more of the design than real drawings, so much so that one could only see the true breathtaking tragedy in them when they stood quite far away. There was a certain lingering sadness in each of them, a resigned and yet still fighting sort of hope. A marionette of white light was tugged along by a dark puppeteer, a ghostly white figure with a shadow of dark smudges.

These were him, in essence. It only fit that they lined his walls, the pure white right up until the blunt shift to black that signified the Yami no Bakura's presence in the hikari's mind.

Bakura had walls of the darkest black, matte and without any shine whatsoever. His half of the bed had sheets as white as the rest of Ryou's room and was accented with a red the color of blood. It was sloppy like a magpie's nest, what with its countless shiny treasures from when Bakura had forgotten them in his pockets and turned them out upon arrival. Ryou could see a pile of silverware and other assorted objects on a small table.

Yet somehow, there was a sort of organized chaos, the sort that if anyone other than its owner stepped in, they would find themselves buried to their neck, Bakura cackling at them from wherever he had happened to know it was safe. Bakura never seemed to lose anything, for that matter, either.

These walls were painted with more of the red in suspicious patterns like blood, and the gory hand prints in the corner were smaller than even Ryou's hands. He didn't know whose they were, but they gave him a bad feeling.

To the unpracticed eye, it might have looked like the result of taking two perfectly opposite rooms and meshed them together, but Ryou knew better. It was a perfect balance, like yin and yang. Light and Dark, in every way. One room for one soul, and yet split just like they were- in a brutal, abrupt division. And that was partially a blessing.

He found himself in this very soul room, his black garments exchanged with a pair of comfortable flannel pants of a teal, large-print plaid and a comfortable white tee. What? This was an imaginary location, an alternate dimension found only in Ryou's brain. He could wear whatever damn well pleased him. He only had to be quiet enough to not disturb the already sleeping Bakura...

He buried himself under the black sheets, curling up with his back against the wall and his head nuzzled into the pillow. It was much more comfortable now. His sleep would be dreamless and his thoughts were free to expound and expand under whatever guidance Ryou provided, not the involuntary streams he often felt. It was remarkably easy for him to finally drift off, which he did gladly.

/Ryou/

The voice was like a whisper. Ryou rolled over and clutched the silken sheets closer to his cheek, snuggling deeper into the warmth.

/Ryou!/

There was more force behind it this time, and Ryou mumbled something that sounded vaguely like '5 more minutes'.

/GET THE FUCK UP, RYOU/ a voice screamed in his head, and Ryou's eyes snapped open abruptly. Two bloody eyes gleamed out of the sheet across from him, shining like that of an owls. But the tree hollow hideaway was nothing more than a swathe of ivory fabric, casting a dark shadow over the face in the low light of the windowless room; the eyes were only the scarlet irises of Bakura. It was not a pleasant sight to awaken to by any means.

Ryou flinched in shock and fell backward off the bed in a sprawling pile of limbs and plaid fabric.

/What is it?/ Ryou groaned, massaging the back of his head and feeling the tiny lump where his head had smacked the slick ground. He sat up and peered over the edge of the bed to frown at Bakura.

A mischievous smile spawned on Bakura's face, the kind of look that reminded Ryou of the cat that not only ate the canary, but also drowned the goldfish and trapped the dog on the porch behind a sliding screen door. He swallowed once, but Bakura only laughed at him.

/Someone's at the door. Your family, your responsibility/ Bakura said. Ryou stood and nodded stiffly, letting his head fall back with a sleepy groan as he reclaimed his prone body. /Have fun, hikari/ Bakura added sardonically, waving as Ryou left.

When he had regained control, he knitted his fingers together and flexed his hands above his head, stretching his arms and popping the taut joints. He heard a knock at the door, the slightly insistent sound of someone who had clearly been at it for a short while. He pulled himself from the bed in slightly stiff clothes and pulled the door open. His cousin stood on the other side of the door with a suitcase in hand and a glower on his face. His eyes suddenly widened and he seemed to struggle to rearrange his features into a normal mask.

"Here's your stuff," Draco drawled, thrusting the telescoping handle out to Ryou to take hold of. "Our elf picked it up for you. Mother says to come down to breakfast after you're dressed."

He turned to leave, but Ryou made a small noise of questioning protest and he paused. "What do you mean, elf?" Ryou asked.

"Elf. House elf. Obviously," Draco said in an supercilious tone. "I only wish we still had another to do this. You know your bag is heavy? What do you even have in there?"

"Um... Stuff, I think," Ryou said simply, not knowing himself the full contents of the bag. He knelt and unzipped it quickly, gasping in delight as he saw his deck wrapped in an elastic band. "Oh, thanks Bakura!" he cried out, mostly to himself, in delight. The cards quickly found themselves clutched close to Ryou's chest between the long 'V' of the leather cord where his millennium ring hung suspended.

"What are those?" Draco asked him.

Ryou grinned ecstatically and held them where his cousin could see them, fanning them out so the tops were visible. "My deck. It's for a card game called Duel Monsters that's huge in Japan. It's really fun, and tons of people turn out to watch the tournaments."

"Duel Monsters? You mean muggles pay money to watch card games?" his cousin asked incredulously.

"Muggles... that sounds familiar. What does it mean again?"

"Non-magical folk. People who aren't wizards."

"Oh, um... then yes. Uh... Well, I can show you how to play after breakfast, if you want," Ryou offered.

"That sounds awful. I wouldn't touch those cards if I were you. Why you'd want to play a muggle card game with no magic, honestly," Draco muttered, turning away. "Waste of pure blood..."

"Not really. You can use magic while playing it!" Ryou said with a smile.

/What are you doing, Hikari?/ Bakura asked, catching on to the train of thought. /I thought you hated shadow games/

/I do, but... I want him to like me. He's my cousin, Bakura. Family. I just want to show him how to play with magic is all/

Bakura rolled his eyes. Ryou took it as acceptance and flashed a giddy grin. "Bakura might even show you how he plays it, if you aren't scared of losing your soul."

Draco blinked at him. "Really?" he asked with genuine interest finally stirring in his tone.

"Yeah. He likes to use magic a lot to play it," Ryou added, just to make it a little more interesting. It wasn't really necessary, though. He was pretty sure that the youngest Malfoy was intrigued enough already. Then again, it never hurt, and Ryou didn't want to seem like a 'waste of pure blood'. Nevermind that he had no magic of his own. In the short time he would be in England, it'd be nice to know what family felt like again.

"Sounds... fun." A genuine smile was on his cousin's face. Then it vanished under stiff formality. "Mother said come on down when you're ready. Take all the time you need," he said, turning again to leave. Ryou smiled to himself for a second. Oh, if his cousin would just like him... He didn't plan on staying long, but Ryou never did like burning bridges when he could build them instead. Ra knew he had few enough friends, and an even smaller family.

Ryou wanted a family. A big one, with as many people around him as possible. He wanted people he could trust with anything, and who he could turn to for advice when it was needed, or entertainment when he was bored, or anything really. Ryou didn't like being alone. Maybe that was why he didn't hate Bakura as he once had, he realized. He was lonely for a long time. Give someone enough time alone, and even a person as curmudgeonly as Bakura could be considered a friend.

Ryou laughed at himself as he realized he'd probably been staring out into the hallway with a vapid little smile for longer than was probably acceptable. He shrugged and closed the door without quite losing his grin. He pulled out a set of clean clothes as quickly as he could, hoping to clean up a bit, and was pleased by what he found inside.

By the time he finally looked up, he saw Bakura lounging on the bed and wearing something completely new. That was the power of shadow magic. The body wasn't technically real, nor were the clothes, but they could have passed for the real thing with ease and been indistinguishable until the magic holding them together was released.

Bakura wore his usual tight leather pants and t-shirt combo, since it was frowned upon to go around bare-chested nowadays and men didn't wear skirts (even if it was a shendyt). The copy of the millennium ring he almost always wore glinted on his chest. His hair looked unbrushed and every bit as bedraggled as it had been in the soul room, particularly the two spiky horned formations that lifted off his scalp.

"I'm sure the Malfoys wouldn't mind if you headed down without me. I think I smell bacon," Ryou said, remembering Bakura's favorite breakfast easily. Bakura grinned.

"Don't mind if I do. But don't blame me if I get lost on the way."

"Oh, and I take it I shouldn't blame you if some of the Malfoy's things happen to fall into your pockets, too?" Ryou asked, putting his hands on his hips and cocking his head imperiously.

Bakura threw back his head and roared with laughter, taking Ryou completely by surprise. If not for the waves of amusement radiating off Bakura through the mind-link, Ryou would have thought he was choking. It seemed like the more likely scenario to him. "Good to know we understand each other," Bakura finally said, tipping his head and sending Ryou a rather sarcastic salute with his forefinger. Ryou watched him go, open mouthed and lacking the presence of mind to close it. By the time he had it, he clamped his jaws shut with a loud clack.

Ryou, deciding that convincing Bakura to behave would be a lost cause and that his time would be better spent doing something else, went to the adjoining bathroom to take a quick shower. Somehow, he managed to dress and still beat Bakura to the kitchen, a fact that disturbed him slightly. What disturbed him more was the small smear of red on Bakura's arm. It looked a bit like blood that hadn't been washed away.

/Remember that peacock?/ Bakura asked. /Let's just say there used to be a lot more than the one we saw/

Ryou shivered. /I see... Say no more/ He didn't particularly want to hear the story now, especially considering the fact that he'd no doubt be regaled with it at a later date. If he could prolong the knowledge, then more power to him. He just wanted to eat.

Where Ryou kept his breakfast on the meager and balanced side, Bakura took massive servings of everything laid out on the table. It was as if Ryou was the one who didn't need to eat and Bakura who was famished. But no, Bakura just liked eating, taking a lion's share of bacon and eggs and a few pieces of toast.

He spent much of the time talking to the Malfoys, trying to explain the situation away as best as he could. Ryou'd done this before, sometimes with homeowners and sometimes with police, and as usual, Bakura wasn't much use. He was more amused by it than anything else. Ryou, despite his hatred of lying, found himself telling a story he came up with on the fly. They seemed to accept the tale, but Ryou wondered if there was more to their nods and 'of course's than they let on. He would have asked Bakura, who was better at reading people than him, but realized that Bakura didn't particularly care.

Nor, for that matter, did Bakura have any clue of what was being said. He picked up a few words here and there, but it was predominantly gibberish to him. What he understood, he understood from Ryou's thoughts. It made Ryou want to teach him a bit of English, just so he didn't have to be the only one talking.

After a while, they switched to what Ryou's dad, Kaito Bakura, had told them years ago after the accident. That was about when Bakura finished eating and left again, heading back upstairs. He tried to glare at Bakura, who was being incredibly rude to their hosts, but Bakura just laughed at him, telling him something along the lines of 'very intimidating, Yadonushi' and vanishing.

Ryou supplied the truth as he knew it, explaining how he ended up in Japan. It hurt to talk about, but he did manage to explain the basics of his mother's death. He went on to tell how he had ended up in a private school for troubled young boys, the string of mysterious comas that followed him and forced him to continually relocate to new schools, and how, after exhausting his options in England, he was sent to Domino, Japan.

He didn't bring up some things. His sister went completely unmentioned, and as far as Ryou knew, it was probably better to leave it that way. Any word of losing magic was probably best left unsaid, as well. After the accident, magic had lost all its appeal, in part from the accident and in part from Bakura. But they didn't need to know that.

He noticed Draco didn't bring up the 'muggle card game', even if Ryou did make plans to demonstrate the magical applications of it. Ryou realized it was very likely that his parents not only shared, but were probably the cause of, Draco's disdain for non-magical people. Again, leaving out any traces of non-magic seemed like an excellent idea. However, after they had all eaten, Draco pulled Ryou aside and asked if he could show him the card game now. Ryou nodded happily and told him that it sounded like a plan.

Ryou was delighted. All in all, despite the massive size of the house, the tiny servants that puttered around in dusty rags, and the unusual magic that seemed to permeate everything, it felt much homier than Ryou's apartment did. He attributed it to the number of inhabitants, since he was usually alone. But it was more than that. It was getting to be near people who shared his blood. People who had known him since his infancy. How much closer could you get than your mother's fraternal twin sister?

Ryou walked upstairs, his shoulders just a little heavily with all he had learned but his heart light. How many people thought he was dead? He hoped the number was small. And for that matter, why had his father told the Malfoys that he had died?

But no, he couldn't let that get to him. He refused to allow it to bother him when he was surrounded by his aunt, uncle, and cousin, and had the chance to show someone new the fun that was Duel Monsters- his favorite non-RPG game. He whistled cheerily as he climbed up the stairs after Draco, who led the way. He got a bit of a funny look, but Ryou didn't mind. All would be fine, given enough time.

Tsk, tsk, Ryou. So blissfully unaware.

A question that haunts me- if you're reading a Tendershipping fic where Ryou is considered half a soul reincarnated, is it still yaoi? Incest? Selfcest? Narcissism? Someone said masturbation once. I thought it was hilarious. Running along that vein, though, it could also be incesturbation.

TV Tropes calls it a doppelbanger, so then again, what do I know?