Alright, I decided to continue it...This chapter is dedicated to YamiMisao and Freai; you're not only the only two who reviewed, but also my most active reviewers on all my work. ^^! So this one's for you, sweeties~ Your reviews always make me smile!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh, nor do I make profit off of writing this

Six years, seven months, four weeks, three days and fifteen hours had passed since the day he had opened his door to find that crumpled up note tacked to his door. Six years, seven months, four...rinse and repeat, since the thief had vanished from everyone's life without a trace, taking nothing but a duffel bag, some clothes, his ring, and a shirt Marik had forgotten in his rush to move out. No contact had been made with any of them as far as everyone else knew, and things had take a definite change in all of them.

The hikari's were all in their mid-twenties now; Malik and Ryou had confessed feelings for each other two years after the departure of the pale yami, and had been going out steady ever since - and Malik had even confided in his yami that he was planning on taking it to the next step via a black velvet box in the near future. Despite it didn't appear the spirit's were aging any time soon Yami and Yugi, who had been together even before the loss of the albino, were still going strong.

Somewhere along the lines Joey and Kaiba had started an on-off relationship, not nearly as serious as the other two couples, but still determinedly loyal even when they had a fight and a break up every few weeks.

Two of three hikari's - Ryou and Malik - were attending a collage in Domino. Yugi had considered following but finally decided against it, simply because that many hours away from his darkness would cause some serious strain on Yami's patience, and everyone knew full well he would storm into the school and break into whatever class Yugi had at the time. So instead the smaller hikari had taken over his grandfather's shop, which was more popular then ever with the two king of games running it.

And Marik...was still Marik. Which was a shock to everyone; the blond seemed unfazed by the loss of his best friend come partner in crime come lover come ex. He remained the same psychotic, destructive, compulsive maniac he had always been, only now he worked alone and tended to go out with a bigger bang then when working with the thief; as well as seemed to wind up behind bars on a much more regular basis, always seeming to disappear from the cell and be back on the streets the next day.

But on the inside, he was broken. Away from the still concerned looks of his companions the younger yami gave way to his true emotions, the usual bearable ache erupting into sheering agony whenever he allowed himself time to think of what he lost. Part of him crowed that this was good; after all, Bakura had been hurtful more then once, had no concerns for his personal feelings. Sure the thief had never insulted him, but he had never gone out of his way like Marik had to keep him happy.

The other part of him merely cried for what he had lost, because despite all the other's faults, Marik had fucking loved him. More then he loved his hikari, and maybe even enough to rival the way Yami loved his hikari. Sure he had initiated the break up between them, but it had been more of a need to be alone; perhaps to make Bakura miss him even a little bit.

When the other had vanished...it was like having a part of him ripped out and never returned, a constant pulsing pain in his side that never ceased, only dulling when he kept himself distracted with one insane heist after the other.

Still Marik kept up the charade, feigning disinterest, pretending to be unaffected; and in truth, he had no idea why. It wasn't to keep the other's from worrying, because they did anyway's, it wasn't to try and convince himself he was fine...it was just how it happened.

Marik no longer lived at Malik's; barely a day after finding the note the blond had moved back to the house he had left, maybe because of the desperate hope that Bakura would return, and he wanted to be there when he did.

Bakura never came. But Marik never left. Instead he slept in their bedroom, immersed himself in the scent of his beloved thief, and wallow in the bitter loss of the best thing that had ever happened. There were no tears left to shed simply because he had run dry only two weeks after finding himself alone, so instead he filled the night with gentle murmurs and wishful whispers to a phantom that was fading with every day that passed.

Sometimes he would sleep, and sometimes he would merely lay awake, gazing blankly at the ceiling, losing himself in the memory of the one thing that had ever made him happy. Pain and loss was unusual to him - to this extent anyway's. Certainly he had felt pain when Bakura so casually disregarded his heartfelt murmurs, or whenever the thief had insulted him - jokingly, of course - but this pain was...deep.

It seemed to sink into his skin, and if he were mortal and weak he'd probably spend the hours ripping into his flesh to ease the pressure. But he wasn't a human, and he knew full well there was nothing to gain from maiming himself. There was no bitter words written on paper, the only things he said spoken to the air and the shadows that lingered on the walls.

Never once did it occur to him to try and take his life; he had heard thousands of tales of stupid mortals who suffered and ended it via suicide, but the whole thing sounded absurd to him. Death was hardly promising, and ending it would just ruin whatever you might experience. Not that he suspected he would die even if he tried - if they didn't age, why the hell would they be able to die?

Sometimes he considered leaving the house, moving back in with Malik's family, if just to have some company and not feel so alone every night. Maybe he could convince his hikari to let him sleep beside him; Marik had no intentions of trying to seduce his light because he knew how happy Malik was with Ryou, but it would be nice to experience the feeling of someone laying next to him.

Every time he thought about it, he beat the urge back. Because if Bakura ever did return..he wanted to be there waiting for him. To greet him at the door and hug him and never let him go again. Say how sorry he was, how much he didn't care if they lasted forever, as long as they lasted for longer then they had...

More often then not, he'd bury his face into the pillow, close his eyes, and whisper brokenly into the fabric..

"I wish we did too..."

More angssst! No longer a one-shot..NO THIS IS NOT THE END I PROMISE! There will be a happy ending, I swear! I just have a thing for making pretty boys suffer. I'm evil, I know..sssh

R&R for more!...mostly just you two, cuz really you're my major inspirations xD!