Disclaimer - since I couldn't be bothered last time (I think). I only own these characters in my vast imagination. In which I also own the world itself. Well, shares, anyway...
AN: Ok. Some things I didn't get round to last time. For one, the normal Bakura will usually be called either Bakura or Bakura-kun (by Yugi, possibly others in Japan), Yadonoushi (means landlord, called this by Yami Bakura), and ahou (this also by Y.B). Yami Bakura will usually be called 'Yami' as in 'my Yami' or sometimes translated as 'my Darkness. He is also called Bakura. This is because (I think) that people just don't know what to call him, and 'the other/evil Bakura' gets to be a bit of a mouthful at times. (Thus the reason Yugi has to find some way of telling the two apart in his head, using the -san suffix for him.) He is also 'named' Thief.
Yami no Yugi will be known as Pharaoh, or the other Yugi. One of Yami Bakura's nick-names for him is 'ou-sama-yo', which is basically a sarcastic way of saying Pharaoh or king. He may also get called 'Yugi' by the unawares.
Something else. In this story, the spirits - that is to say, the Pharaoh and the Tomb Robber - can go outside of their host bodies in spirit form. They can affect their host, touch their host, but nothing else. They can't go corporeal (get bodies of their own) outside of possessing the one who their Item belongs to. Also need to say that Yami B would probably not want Ryou to get hurt/ abused, as this would weaken him just as much.
Kelekiah: Well, I don't know. Mostly it is going to be from either Ryou's or Yugi's points of view, but other characters will have their turns in the spotlight every so often.
Sir Gawain of Camelot: Sorry you felt that way about the random Japanese in the first chapter. I've remedied that - there isn't so much now. I'll only keep it in if it's good for the story, like the -kun and -san for Bakura. There might be other stuff, but not as much. Haha! 'Yami' actually was mentioned as a name for Pharaoh in the episode 'the Wrath of Rebecca; the Girl from America'. Only in silly dub of course, though. I think that's when, anyway. I'm only going to be using 'Yami' and 'Hikari' as ways of saying just what they are. You'll find out about that more this chapter.
Yugi had a lot on his mind. He'd thought that he had problems a couple of days before, but that was nothing compared with now. He considered calling Jonouchi or Anzu, but either of them would just freak if they heard anyway, making things ten times worse for both him and Bakura.
That night when he had invited his friends over to play games, one of the Horses and Chariots figures had gone missing. He hadn't mentioned it to Jii-chan, because he'd thought that it would turn up eventually. Sooner or later, it would either appear in one of his drawers, put away by accident, or someone would come around and tell him sheepishly that they had something that they thought was his. Neither had happened so far, and he was starting to it wasn't in the house at all. Which led to the thought – If it isn't in the house, then where is it?
Which, Yugi concluded sadly, had only one answer in his point of view.
Bakura had it.
The fact that neither he, Jonouchi, Honda or Anzu had seen Bakura since that day did not make things easier. He'd asked Bakura-kun if there was anything wrong. So had Jonouchi-kun. He'd even said that he could talk freely if he felt the need to.
A sudden thought hit him. What if Bakura wasn't able to talk? What if something big had happened, or Bakura was being possessed again? It might not have even been his friend who'd promised that he would talk if he had any troubles – it might have been the other Bakura! But if that was true, where was his friend, the real Bakura? Anything could have happened to him! He could be trapped in the Shadow Realm, or worse yet, trapped in a figurine.
Yugi held his head in his hands and moaned. So much for being a good friend. . .
He was so worried about his friend that he didn't notice the Puzzle's soft glow.
"Yugi."
Yugi almost let out a scream.
"Don't creep up on me like that!"
The Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle was now sitting on Yugi's bed, the serious look on his face marred by the amusement at his aibou's shock. A single brow rose in speculation.
"I had thought that you were used to the situation by now, aibou."
"I am," Yugi said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "But I've been-"
"Preoccupied?"
"Yeah." Yugi sighed and shook his head. "It's just – I'm not sure if I can-"
"Yugi."
The smaller boy fell silent at the command-like way the spirit said his name. He looked over at his other self, a complete and utter trust in his eyes that could only be understood when you could look into the eyes of the other half of your soul.
The Pharaoh sighed, and half floated, half stood up.
"I believe that no harm has come to Bakura. At least, none that I could be aware of."
"What do you mean?" Yugi asked, curious and confused. The spirit simply shrugged, a motion that looked fluid.
"The Puzzle's power – the first one that I ever found out about – was that it brings people together. How else could I have found Jonouchi when his old gang went after him so long ago?" Yugi opened his mouth to say something, but the spirit simply held up a hand. "If Ryou Bakura were in any mortal peril, we would know. I still don't know as much about the Puzzle's power than I'd like, but I do know that much."
"Thank you. I needed that. But I still feel that we should at least check up on him. There must be a reason why he hasn't contacted any of us at all."
Shadows.
Most people see shadows as just another form of darkness, but that isn't true.
A lot of people like to think that there are a certain number of elements in the universe. Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Energy. Light and Dark. Yami and Hikari.
The problems start when you add darkness as a component in and of itself.
In a room with no windows, it's dark. Not because that's what it is, but because there is no light. Darkness is simply lack of light. Which is hard to achieve, even in the dankest of caves.
When there is light in the darkness, it immediately ceases to be Dark. It turns into something else. Shadows. If someone took a lighted candle into the room with no windows, there would be shadows flickering on all walls, and if a person was in the room then they would be able to see. Even the smallest of lights can change the darkest of places, of people.
But without light, shadows would cease to exist any more, cease to be, turn back into the darkness from which they were born. Shadows require light. They almost feed off of it.
Which makes shadows all the more deadly when they become real, not restricted to the confines of not-light behind the sofa or the strange place at the bottom of your bag where the keys always inevitably seem to end up. When they can almost seem to gain a mind of their own, their own ideas about justice and punishment. Their own ideas about how to mete out that justice and punishment.
When there's a whole Realm of these Shadows, all wild and out of control. When there are only very few people who can control them, call upon them, go to them and still be untouchable. When there are so many, so many, many people so vulnerable to them. Their friendships, their loyalties. Their precious people and the things that they fought for. Fierce bravery, whether it be against a foe or for a friend. The lights in their hearts and souls. The things that dispelled the darkness.
"Help. . ."
The Shadows needed those lights. They fed off of the lights they were sent, making the souls shiver or scream as the cold pierced them to the core. As the Shadows made them burn out.
"I. . . can't. . ."
Ryou Bakura couldn't even finish a single sentence any more. He'd tried before, tried to tell the one that they all called 'the Evil Bakura' that one just didn't get 'accustomed' to the Shadow Realm. The Spirit had seen, felt what it had done to Yugi in his duel against Pegasus on the island. The Spirit surely understood that no normal person could survive the Shadows. So why was he here now?
"Cope. . . Can't. . . Survive. . ."
Cold was going through him, into his very soul. The five evenly spaced pin-prick like wounds on his chest, the stab that had gone straight through his left hand. They ached. Old wounds, by now. But Lord, they hurt. His arm, though... he thought that it had started bleeding again. It certainly felt that way. Ironically, he was reminded of Battle City, so long and not so long ago. The only reason he still had the Ring on.
But there were differences. Last time, the wound on his arm had been fresh. It had bled freely the moment he was in control. Blood had come through the thin bandages that the hospital had put on him. There were no bandages this time; there was no need for them. The slash across his arm had healed up pretty nicely, only leaving a long white scar as reminder. He often saw Yugi or the others look at it twice, but his usual reaction was to shrug it off. Last time he had come to in the midst of a battle between his other self, the Spirit of the Ring, and the other Yugi, whom had been revealed not long before to have been a Pharaoh. Before having been sealed into the Puzzle, that is. The outcome of the match had teetered, the deciding point being whether or not the other Yugi would attack a friend, simply to win a duel. Not just that, but kill. Bakura shivered whenever he thought of that in too much detail. This time it was simply him, him and the Shadows. Last time there had been three people in his head; himself, Ryou Bakura, the Spirit of the Millennium Ring, who mostly used his name when he took over his body, and also a part of Marik Ishtar, then-possessor of the Millennium Rod. This time there was just him, him and his Yami side, his darkness.
There was one thing similar, though, Bakura managed to think as he fell unconscious. One constant. One pillar of solidarity. Even though he did it with a curse, his Yami, the one they all called evil, had been there for him. Picked him up, if roughly, from the violet-and-gray Shadow streaked ground and onto his shoulder.
When he came to, he was in his bed, in his apartment. Sunlight shone through open windows, ridding him of thoughts about shadows. The Millennium Ring was still about his neck, his deck-box in his hand as if he'd fallen asleep with it there.
Walking up the stairs to Bakura's apartment, Yugi felt that there was something. . . not wrong, exactly, but definitely different from the last time he'd come. It was more familiar. A sense of. . . lingering half-here half-there that, if given a scent, would have smelled of bonfires. A kind of burning. A kind of smoke that only he noticed.
He knocked politely on Bakura's door, waited for a minute.
The door opened to reveal a Bakura still in his pyjamas, Ring hanging loose and free for all the world to see. Yugi's gaze was only caught on the gold Item momentarily, though, as it was something else that truly grabbed his attention.
"Bakura-kun! You look awful!"
Bakura smiled wanly. His skin had the same ghostly pallor to it as it had in the Battle City finals, his eyes looking sore for some reason – whether from lack of sleep or something else was uncertain. His deck was in the hand that wasn't holding the door open.
"Ah. You noticed. Tea for care, Yugi-kun?"
Yugi's eyes grew wide at the slightly slurred speech and mixing of words. He frowned, fighting the protective instinct that brought his other self out. That would only cause more trouble.
"Could I come in?"
"Of course you can."
Bakura stood aside to let him in and Yugi was almost surprised that the apartment wasn't completely demolished. In fact, it looked just as neat and tidy as he'd last seen it. A stark difference to the feeling of torn Shadows.
"You know, Bakura-kun, I think you're more in need of coffee than you are of tea."
". . . What?"
Yugi sighed. "Never mind. I'll do it." He'd been in Bakura's apartment enough times to know where the coffee was, especially after the one time Kaiba had ever graced them with his presence for a game.
When he went back into the living room, Bakura was sitting on the sofa, both hands on the Ring which was now on his knees. His deck had moved to the opposite side of the table from him, making Yugi think that his friend hadn't properly noticed that it was in his hand when he went to open the door. There was a strange look on his face as if he was concentrating on something, a tension in the air and a dim glow on the Ring that had nothing to do with the lighting.
"Coffee, Bakura-kun."
"Oh, thank you." Bakura took the mug of steaming coffee and set it down on the table. He then seemed to realize for the first time exactly how openly he had been wearing the Millennium Ring, as he turned slightly red. "I'm sorry. I should have asked. But. . . I felt that you wouldn't have wanted to give it back to me. I know how dangerous it is."
Yugi shook his head in amazement. "I think I understand. There've been times when I've been separated from the Puzzle-"
"I don't think you do understand, Yugi. It certainly is strange – difficult – not having it. But when I don't have it I feel sort of free, too. No, the real reason why was something altogether different."
"Different? Different how?"
A contrite frown passed across Bakura-kun's face, and without really knowing how, Yugi knew that his friend was conversing with the Spirit in the Ring. Something that was still very strange to see. Almost without warning, he took the Ring off of his knees and carefully put it onto the table next to his deck as if he was holding a scorpion. When he pushed the hair out of his face, Yugi saw the look of alarm that was there, felt the Pharaoh's anger, and behind that, his curiosity.
"I – I think that we should probably discuss this tomorrow, Yugi-kun," Bakura-kun said softly, just a hint of previous panic touching his voice. "Just to be safe. The terms 'fun' and 'games' don't always go too well together, you know."
"Aa. But. . ."
"Hai?"
"Nothing. Just – be careful."
Bakura cocked his head slightly to one side. "I will be." He hesitated for a moment. "You be careful too, Yugi-kun. We'll talk tomorrow."
As he walked back home, Yugi thought about what Bakura-kun had said. Something was niggling him. Something small. But, for a mind that was used to the intricacies of a certain card game as well as many others that relied on brilliant strategy, something was definitely off.
//What is it, aibou?//
This time, he wasn't surprised at the voice that came suddenly, seemingly out of thin air. He was still slightly embarrassed about that morning.
/Nothing, but – what Bakura-kun said last. Before we left. I don't know why, but it feels like he set a trap face down./
For a few minutes, there was silence in the boy's head.
//Word games, came the answer. Definitely not the sort of thing I'd have accused Bakura of in the past, but given the circumstances. . .//
/That was definitely Bakura-kun! It wasn't the Ring! He'd just put it on the table!/
//Watching it all the time as if it was a live Man-Eater Bug,// the spirit said dryly.
/It was him. If it hadn't been it must've been the Ring all along 'cause the only time it glowed was when we walked in on him with coffee. And that wasn't the bright glow that usually happens when one of us switches, or if Shadow powers are used./
Yugi felt rather than saw or heard the Pharaoh sigh, slide to sitting against one of the many walls of his soul room. A muffled curse not meant to reach his aibou's ears.
/What is it? What's wrong?/
Momentary silence, then more muffled curses.
//He told us to be careful. He said that, and I quote, 'We'll talk tomorrow'. Does that shed any light on the matter for you?// When Yugi shook his head, he continued. We're not just going to be talking to Ryou Bakura tomorrow, aibou. 'We', I think, means all four of us at some point.
/But-!/
//Call it insanity if you will, but the boy has been learning the Shadows. We have to talk with him tomorrow about that, even if nothing else. That dim glow on the Ring didn't happen by itself.//
The spirit of the ancient Pharaoh pondered on what he had found out, what they had learned, long after his aibou had gone to sleep. The Thief was never a subject that he liked to dwell on, but all to often was one that he had to think about for some reason or other.
Truth to be told, in many ways the Spirit that resided in the soul room of the Millennium Ring was similar to him. That was one of the reasons he didn't like to think about him too much – that, and the fact that when he did, he got angry about what the Thief had done to both his friends and his own Other Self, the one the Thief called merely host, landlord, or 'Yadonoushi'.
The Pharaoh clenched his teeth at the derogative term. He called his own Other Self partner, 'aibou'. They worked together as a team, as well as with the rest of their friends. Jonouchi-kun, Honda-kun, Anzu-chan. Kaiba. Otogi-san. Jonouchi-kun's sister, Shizuka. And, of course, Ryou Bakura, whom his aibou called friend and had welcomed into the group before Duel Monsters had evolved into the Shadows. They had all trusted him before, during and after the Monster World Shadow Game that had staked his friends' lives on the line as the playing pieces.
It had taken only until the first night – until night and shadows fell, surprise surprise – for the other Bakura to make his move again. The boy had been careless while handling the Ring, and had ended up almost having to make his own friends attack each other when his soul had been transferred to his favourite card. The Pharaoh still wondered about that – he guessed that the card was a lot like Bakura's situation. Hikari on one side, Yami on the other.
He had gotten the condensed version later on that there had been some strange goings on in Duelist Kingdom before, during and after the Duel against Pegasus. He also hadn't been able to ignore the strange way that the boy had acted when he solved the riddle of the Paradox brothers in the caves.
He had also been told what had happened during the time the Puzzle had been shattered in the middle of Yugi's game against Otogi. He supposed that he owed the other spirit something for that. Even if it had been for personal gain that he had been there, the Puzzle was whole again, and in the right hands.
He got up and started pacing. Obviously the Ring's Spirit was still a threat. If he wasn't, then Bakura would not have warned them. Would likely have looked in better shape than he had – he wasn't accusing the Thief of doing anything deliberate, but wouldn't put it past him to be the cause. If he wasn't a threat still, then the alarmed, slightly panicked look on Bakura's face would have had to have been an elaborate ruse or prank, which he didn't think the real Bakura would do. Possessor of the Millennium Ring or not, Ryou Bakura was a polite, rather shy young boy who was fiercely loyal to his aibou and the rest of his friends. He wouldn't deliberately play a prank that low on them, much less knowingly and deliberately betray them.
Which, the Pharaoh thought decisively as he stopped pacing to think about his new problem, meant that they were going to have to speak about more than just Shadows tomorrow, and hope that it didn't come down to using them.
Sighing, he went out into the corridor, opened the door of his aibou's room just a crack, to make sure that he was fine. He smiled when he saw just how many toys and games had managed to survive both Duelist Kingdom and Battle City. True, some things had been replaced, but they were small things. A two player fighting game instead of a one player puzzle game. A small number of the colourful building blocks that had been there when he had first looked had been replaced by figurines of Duel Monsters. A Red-Eyes Black Dragon, a Blue-Eyes White Dragon. Others.
Smiling a smile that not many people saw, he headed back into his own room, making sure that the door he opened was the one he used a place of relaxation rather than of testing whether or not he could escape the traps. The same kind of hunch that told him that his friends believed in him told him that he would need his rest for tomorrow.
Tomorrow came too early. He was woken up when his aibou's voice, always able to breach his soul room walls, shouted at him to wake up, told him quite unnecessarily that they were going to talk with Bakura-kun today and they didn't want to be late, did they?
He saw through it all easily, of course. Gods in the Heavens with Osiris, he was nervous. Him. But Yugi had told Jii-chan yesterday that they were going to go back to Bakura's today, and they both knew that it was something that had to be done. His aibou wasn't simple by any means; he had surely figured out by now what the word game had meant.
/What bothers me,/ Yugi said as he got ready/is why he never told us about this before./
The Pharaoh snorted lightly. //He told us himself that he knew that we wouldn't want him to have the thing back. That's probably why. And if you're looking for more word games, try this one on for size. We only ever asked if there was trouble. Up until, and hopefully including now, there hasn't been any.//
/We shouldn't have been so specific then,/ Yugi said, scowling. /You saw him. He might not be in true danger, but-/
/That's one of the things that we are going to bring up./ He had a strong feeling about what had brought on the ill look in Bakura, and he was not pleased.
They walked out of the shop, calling 'see you later!' to Jii-chan, and made their way almost silently to Bakura's apartment. Across the road. Up the stairs. Along the corridor. Hand to the doorbell. Dark shades of purple doubtlessly flickered in his aibou's eyes – not the red of anger or complete control, but not-Yugi, all the same.
The door seemed to open of its own accord. One moment their hand was hovering above the button, the next they were looking into brown eyes and white hair.
"Ohaiyo, Yugi-kun! Pharaoh-san!"
"Wha-? How-?"
//Look down.//
Yugi dutifully looked down. There, bright against the pale cream of Bakura's jumper, was the Ring, one of its pointers aiming straight at the Puzzle.
"Oh. Heheh..."
"I'm awfully sorry if I startled you."
Yugi rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "It's nothing – you're the second friend to do that to me in the same number of days."
"Really? I'd have thought that it would be hard for anyone to come up on you unnoticed, what with the Pharaoh and all."
"That was why, actually. He didn't mean to, though."
The Pharaoh couldn't whether to laugh or scowl at the joke. He settled for a smile as the two laughed in understanding on their way in to the living room, seating themselves opposite each other.
"You remember what we were talking about before, don't you?"
"Aa." Yugi fingered the chain that kept the Millennium Puzzle that served as the corridor between his and the Pharaoh's soul rooms around his neck. "You were going to tell us why you took-"
//Stole.//
"-the Millennium Ring back."
"Yes, I was, wasn't I? I . . . suppose it started not long after Battle City."
"What did?"
"The wondering. At first I was somewhat happy to be rid of it, because it had seemed every time I put it on meant danger for you – for my friends."
"What changed?" The Pharaoh in his soul room sat on the stone steps. It might even be that his aibou could give them both the answers they needed without having to switch at all. "You can tell me." He groaned – barely five minutes and already the so-called innocent one was using the big-purple-puppy-dog-eyes to get what he wanted. The boy was more manipulative sometimes than Anzu.
"I started to think," Ryou Bakura began quietly. "About those times. What I remembered and what I'd heard. What Honda-kun told me, and . . . Battle City."
The white haired boy ducked his head, fiddling nervously with the golden Item around his neck. Shadows played about his face, hair slightly muffling his voice. But the Pharaoh was certain that the Thief would never have said what this Bakura was saying.
"I just want to know why. There's just so much I don't understand. You and the Pharaoh are in a partnership – you do just about everything together. You even remember your first battles with him, but I don't – I don't want to. That was one of the worst times of my life. But maybe I might like to learn to understand why."
It would be an understatement to say that Yugi was struck dumb. The Pharaoh, however, was far from speechless. He stood up in an anger, glaring from his soul room.
//That's why he brought the Tomb Robber back? Because – because he wants to understand a psychopathic, soul stealing, masochistic murderer who just happens to hate me for no reason that I can fathom! Aibou, I may believe and agree with you when you say to trust Bakura – it's not his fault. But I think that the boy is a little addled in the head...//
/Mou hitori no boku! Bakura-kun is not addled in the head!/
Said boy was, at that point, looking at his friend with a decidedly nervous expression.
"You – you aren't mad at me, are you? I would fully understand it if you were. . ."
"Oh, no, Bakura-kun! I'm not mad. I really hope something comes out of this. You know. It's not that fun. Having to look over your shoulder all the time, I mean. Oh, I didn't mean it that way!" He added when the white-haired boy gave him a look reminiscent of a deer stuck in the headlights.
"But. . . don't you think it's just a little. . . dangerous? You of all people know what he's like."
A gleam of something sharp glittered in the quiet boy's face before it disappeared as if it had never been. Bakura sighed the sigh of one who knows too much before speaking in a low voice.
"I would prefer him to be dangerous for a while before I understand him and in a place where I can tell exactly what he has done rather than be unprepared the next time I touched the Ring by a simple accident."
Yugi smiled lopsidedly. "You've been listening to Anzu too much."
Bakura returned the smile, laughing almost bitterly. "I suppose I might have been. But actually, I got that from him."
"You what?"
A sharp look to make sure that it was still Yugi in control – he was. The Pharaoh wasn't that stupid to appear first in a room with the Ring's Spirit – and then a more Ryou-like laugh.
"He never actually said any of it, really. But I did get the vague idea that he had been getting bored, and since then usually try to steer clear of any thoughts of boredom on his part."
"How do you do that, then? As far as I know, there aren't that many things that interest him."
Bakura's face grew decidedly redder. "Well, I – that is, er. . ."
" 'Er' What?" Yugi asked, the Pharaoh pleased to see that his aibou had picked up a few tricks; mainly in the 'how to sound imposing and commanding and make the other person answer you' area. "From the moment I was at all close to this building, Bakura-kun, I sensed Shadows. Big ones. And they all led straight here."
The Pharaoh found that his light's anger made him itch, a memento from the time when raw emotion; guilt and pain and anger just like the boy was feeling right now, would bring his spirit to the fore, leaving the younger Shadow mage watching from his soul room. Those days were admittedly less than a year gone, and he knew all too well that no matter his good intentions, if Yugi's emotions got the better of him, he would have no choice but to take over, if only just to calm him down and make sure that he didn't do anything stupid. They had been practicing direct Summons recently, and the Hikari was doing very well, sometimes even doing the odd thing without the Pharaoh's help, though that might have just been because Kuriboh could almost Summon themselves out of the Shadow Realm.
In short, although he truly did think that Ryou Bakura's apartment was a little too clean and tidy for his particular taste, he didn't think that he would like to see the mess it would be in after a Duel that didn't need Duel Disks.
"Nothing happened, Yugi-kun! You don't have to worry!"
"Don't have to worry? I always worry about my friends, Bakura-kun. And the fact that you've had no few ventures into the Shadows yourself only makes me worry more when I sense Shadows in your apartment!"
"That isn't exactly fair, Yugi, and you know it. The Pharaoh's been teaching you how to do things, so that you can survive in them better than you could the first time. You can't deny it – you told me yourself a number weeks ago."
"But- but that's nowhere near the same!"
"Only because you make it that way – mortal."
The Pharaoh didn't have to look at the other boy's eyes to know that they were amber, look at his face to know that it was sharper. The condescending, angry tone of his voice and the two simultaneous flashes of golden light from both of the items told him more than mere looks ever could. His eyes narrowed as the Thief stood with the grace of his kind only to stretch comfortably and then proceeded to allow Shadows to lick at his fingers, almost ignoring the Pharaoh as he stood, ready for anything that the Thief might decide to throw at him.
"You know, Pharaoh, for one so eager to teach the joys of friendship, your host is ever so quick to point out its . . . ah . . . weaknesses."
"Yugi is not my host, Bakura," the Pharaoh growled. "Unlike you, I have a partnership-"
"When may I ask was the last time the two of you plucked up the courage to ask Yadonoushi what he thought about this arrangement? Oh, I must have forgotten. This is. And what an absolutely splendid way you were going about it, too."
If anything, this made the Pharaoh's scowl deepen. Because for once, it almost seemed as if the Thief was telling the truth. This was the first time they had talked about the other Bakura, and it most certainly had not been going well.
A sharp movement caught his eye. The Shadows that had been around the Thief's fingers had gathered themselves into a ball of sorts which the other was tossing and catching with one hand.
"What is it exactly that you want, Bakura?"
The ball of Shadows disappeared, consumed by the natural shadows of the room which now flickered dangerously. The other Bakura's amber eyes glinted in time with the shadows.
"What I would like would be to see your head severed from your body, your spirit sent to the Shadows and the Puzzle in my rightful possession. What I would like would be for all of the other Items to be mine. As they rightfully should be. What I would like would be to see my collection of dolls as they used to be. What I would like would be for Yadonoushi to stop asking me so many bloody questions which give me bloody headaches!"
The Shadows around the embodied Spirit returned, though this time in the shape of a fancy knife, which turned out to be more substantial when the Shadows mostly evaporated from it as soon as the thief had a hold of it. A tell-tale red stain ran down both sides somehow without dulling the blade or the sheen.
"Why don't you just answer him then?"
Bakura snorted.
"You must be more insane than I am, Ou-Sama-yo. The brat has so many questions I think I'd die of old age before I answered them all."
The knife was thrown up into the air, flashing in the light of both the electric and magical lights. Flash, flash. It was caught by the hilt, blade reflecting the slightest hint of amber from the thief's eyes before it disappeared again with an almost invisible glint. It was caught again, this time by the blade tip, not a drop of blood showing. So the cycle continued, at first slow, then gradually faster.
"That's getting on my nerves, thief."
Instead of becoming irritated and angry, like he had half expected the thief to react to what he had just needed to say, or even ignoring him to carry on just to spite him, the white haired spirit did something the Pharaoh hadn't been expecting; he laughed. Admittedly not the deranged sort of laugh that he used when he thought that he was going to win, yet not entirely sane either. He stopped laughing with a dry chuckle.
"I win."
The Pharaoh swallowed, hard. It had been a game? Not of who would break their concentration on the knife first, but which of the two could hold off their irritation for longer. He had lost. But he hadn't even known that a game had been in progress.
"That was no true Game," the Pharaoh said out loud. "You didn't even treat it like one."
A cynical white eyebrow was raised, questioning.
"I'm ever so sorry – if it was a Shadow Game you were after, I'm sure I could find some kind of game you could stake your souls on."
"That wasn't what I meant."
Without any warning, Bakura stopped playing with the knife, and walked calmly and with the grace of a big cat over to the Pharaoh. A slightest hint of chocolate brown amusement showed briefly on his face.
"Two reasons. One – as a self-proclaimed King of Games you should know that any good strategist waits until the opportune moment, the time when their enemy is already weak. Or if they are strong enough to overcome them anyway."
The King of Games understood this strategy all too well – many times a duel or other game had been won simply by waiting for the right card, for the right move to be made. It wasn't surprising that one of his greatest threats could use that kind of strategy as well.
"Reason number two." White hair whooshed suddenly away, the temporary owner turning his back on his enemy. "There is more than one way of paying rent to a landlord."
The Spirit of the Puzzle almost felt his eyes turn a bloody red in his anger. Landlord! The other Bakura was truly using such a term to describe the relationship between him and his other self? There really was no word rude enough to describe him.
"Don't look so shocked, ou-sama-yo. All you need to know is that I'm giving you the grace of not attacking now – no. I'll save that pleasure until you're at the point where you are the one begging me for help, and then I'll show you true fear."
The Pharaoh's eyes narrowed, still blood-red in his anger. He felt his fingers twitch, almost willing to take the risk involved in commencing a real game that would surely seal the other's soul away for good. To think that someone would have the audacity to speak to him, the King of Games, like that! To think that he would ever stoop to asking, let alone begging one of his sworn enemies help him! Ludicrous.
But to his surprise the Thief was true to his word. With just a couple more flashes the knife brought from the Shadows went back to where it had come from, and not a sign to say that it ever had been there. He sauntered back over to where he had been sitting before, and landed with a thump, hands going straight to his head as if he were on holiday, eyes closed as if he were in a safe place, a smirk on his mouth that started to fade at the same time his hair went less wild and more soft; arms coming down as though sleepwalking and eyes losing so much of their sharpness in that it couldn't have possibly been anything other than what the tell-tale golden glow marked it out to be. The Pharaoh had been dismissed.
Realizing at last what it would be like if his aibou's friend and the Thief's light saw him towering over him, the Pharaoh also retreated to his soul room.
Bakura came to sitting down. He had been sitting down before, but now it felt different. He looked around him. He listened, with both physical ears and those of the Shadows, the way the cause of the trouble had told him to. He was sure that he had seen a familiar flash, but couldn't be completely certain. Still, it didn't hurt to make sure.
"Yugi-kun? Are you alright?"
Yugi was standing up. He had been standing up before, as he had been angry. But now he was blinking, as if to get a bright light out of his eyes. Bakura noticed something else. Yugi was kind of off-centre, as if he had moved from one moment to the next without his muscles telling his mind. The other Yugi, Bakura surmised.
"I – I'm fine, Bakura-kun. I think."
"What's wrong? Nothing happened. Did it?"
"That's just it. I can't remember a single thing. Usually I do, whether we're working as one or if he takes over. This time – nothing."
"Let me guess," Bakura said wryly yet still politely, "you can't remember the slightest thing from one moment to the next?"
Comprehension dawned on Yugi's face.
"Oh. Sorry. I. . . suppose you kinda get this a lot. . ."
He couldn't help but notice the slight wince
"I did," Bakura said lightly. Yugi still hadn't asked and didn't know about how he was dealing with things at the moment, but the truth was that although there were still times when he'd black out one moment and wake up the next morning, there were still others when he was all too aware.
Bakura became aware that there was an uncomfortable silence between them and there was something that he wanted to ask.
"Yugi-kun. Are you all right?"
"I am. It's weird, but . . . I think I am." Suddenly Yugi's face lit up. "I got an apology," he said in explanation.
Bakura beamed for his friend. He truly did have a partnership with his other self. As for him . . . well. It wasn't like his Darkness to actually apologise over anything. However...
"You know, Yugi-kun. I think I got one too."
Yugi's face looked so funny in that confused-serious look that Bakura felt like laughing. He barely held it in, satisfying himself with a soft smile instead.
"I saw the inside of my Soul Room."
Yugi opened his mouth as if to say something, then apparently thought better of it and didn't. Instead he nodded in the kind of understanding one can only receive when they have been through the same things, seen the same sights. A Soul Room was a very important, very personalised space that only the soul that had created it could change.
It had been two weeks previous when he had first seen the inside of his. At first he had thought that it had been another of the times when he would re-awaken to find himself in bed, but it was not the room he remembered from his apartment.
Bakura's soul room was neat and tidy. Things were shelved, and not one single thing was out of place that Bakura hadn't personally put out of place. The bed was a large four-poster with black and red drapes. The duvets on the bed were bright colours – blues and oranges. There were photographs on the walls, of him, together with his family and friends. Every time he was dumped in there he almost always stared longingly at one particular picture depicting himself with his little sister Amane and their mother and father, all together. It had been taken mere days before his tenth birthday. Days before he had received the Ring. Various Monster World relics had been there the first time he had come, and many had stayed. Postcards of Duel Monsters lay in a drawer in a desk where he liked to write to Amane, thinking that maybe she could see him writing his letters to her even in his soul room. Next to the postcards was a small pile of disused-looking Duel Monster cards, cards that he had either played and grown to like or seen himself play at some time or other.
One time he had ventured to the door. It was a simple looking door. Blue, with a normal looking handle. But for most people there wouldn't have been a door at all. Just wall. Bakura knew what was behind the door without having to open it – the soul corridor. The corridor between him and his Darkness, one who had proudly confessed to have robbed tombs and stolen souls.
One time he had ventured out of the door. He had seen the corridor. With his own eyes had he seen the old, dark door that led to the Thief's own soul room. Several sentences of hieroglyphs were written on it, not that he could understand them. The only thing he could understand about the door that wasn't his was the Horus eye that was just above his own eye level. Yugi had told him that there was one just like it on the Pharaoh's soul room door.
Turning his attention back to the present, he smiled, reassuring Yugi and talking for a little while before he walked the shorter boy home. A soul room was definitely one of the better things he had received from his Darkness.