Short chapter...heh. I'd like to make a note that while this story seems like PWP now, it does, indeed, have a plot. I've decided on the course of the story. For your understanding, know that in this alternate storyline, Yuugi and his friends are currently competing in the KC grand championship, or somewhere near the end of the Doma arc, whichever you prefer. This story will go all along till the end of the series. So don't worry about the ending, I have it planned. I'll try to keep regularly writing and updating - I hate when fics take forever to be completed, especially because there's no idea for the storyline. I have the end in sight, I just have to convince myself to write. Also, I've been having some problems with page breaks. I'm sorry if it's confusing - my breaks were deleted. I'm going to try a single x on the line, see if that works. If it doesn't...well, it should be obvious when it switches POV, and my sincerest apologies for any confusion last chapter with the change in POV. This chapter ended up being more filler than anything, but what can a writer do? Structure before smut! That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter.
It's warm, he realized. The floor is warm and I can feel it and if I can feel it then I must be in a body but the ring was taken off so that means-
Barely daring to hope, Bakura's eyes shot open, and he sat abruptly. He lifted up hands, staring at them for a moment before grinning.
Excellent.
The body was identical to Ryou's, but it was his own. There was no tug from the ring, no presence in his mind, only his thoughts and the ability to move as he pleased.
He stood.
Bakura's eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. Three circles were scratched roughly in chalk. His millennium ring lay in the middle, in a pool of blood. After a moment, he picked it up and looped it around his neck with a frown before noticing the two bodies.
Malik lay sprawled on the opposite side of the room, unconscious, but it was his former host that made him pause. Ryou was curled into a ball, eyes focused on nothing, shaking miserably. Bakura bent warily.
"Host?" he whispered curiously. Ryou made no reply. "...Ryou?"
The boy lay still.
Frowning, Bakura straightened and crossed the room to Malik.
"Tomb keeper." He barked. "Wake up."
Malik stirred slightly, opening a single dazed eye to blink up at him blearily. His eyes brightened in recognition, and he sat up, rubbing his temple.
"I passed out." Malik explained unnecessarily. Bakura raised his eyebrow. Malik stood quickly, straightening his shirt with an awkward cough, attempting to change the subject. "The body? It's working?"
Bakura scowled and jerked his head in a nod. "My host. What's wrong with him?"
Malik frowned before walking to Ryou's side, kneeling beside him. He brushed some hair out of his face gently.
"Ryou." Malik called softly. "Stand up."
Ryou's eyes snapped open, and he scrambled to his feet, shaking. Bakura didn't miss the way Malik's arm curled around the teen's waist. He furrowed his eyebrow. Something feels...off.
"Why won't he answer me?" Bakura demanded harshly.
Malik started, his eyes shifting suspiciously. "Of course he will. Right, Ryou?" he coaxed. Malik twisted his hands around Ryou's wrist and pulled him towards Bakura. Ryou followed, docile, letting himself be led. They stood face to face. Bakura stared into Ryou's eyes.
"...Hello, Spirit." Ryou struggled out.
Bakura glanced at him cautiously. "...Ryou?" He noted a large cut on Ryou's hand. That must be where the blood came from...
He chose his words carefully. After all, he didn't want me to obtain a body. "...How are you feeling?"
Ryou stared at him blankly for half a minute, swaying as if he were listening to something else. "...I'm feeling fine, thank you, Spirit." He concluded. "Thank you for asking."
Bakura narrowed his eyes. "...You seem...very okay with this."
Again, that damned delay.
"...Of course I'm okay, Spirit." Ryou concluded finally, polite to the very last. "I have Malik, and I am happy, for myself and for you."
Bakura's jaw fell open slightly at that one. Suddenly the pieces clicked together in his mind. Anger surged through him and he turned on Malik, grabbing the teen by the front of his shirt and pulling him close.
"I said to leave some of him there." Bakura hissed furiously. "I said to keep him happy!"
"He is." Malik replied instantly, looking unfazed. He pulled himself out of Bakura's grip with ease. "He's very happy. Right, Ryou?"
His former host shivered, a smile of content flitting across his face. "Yes." Ryou agreed. "I'm happy."
"You're making him say that." Bakura hissed. "Can he even think?"
"Of course not." Malik scoffed instantly, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. Bakura bristled. "Happiness doesn't necessarily include free will, you know."
"You son of a bitch." Bakura snarled. He grabbed Ryou's upper arm roughly, dragging him down the hall.
"Wait! Where are you going?" Malik called after him, sounding, for the first time, angered.
"I'm taking him home." Bakura growled over his shoulder. "He's going to get away from you and sleep this off."
Suddenly, Ryou dug in his heels, pulling himself back towards Malik.
"What are you doing, host?" Bakura snapped. "Come /on/."
"You don't understand, do you, Bakura?" Ryou spoke in a flat monotone, his body tensing as Malik spoke through him. "You made a deal. No matter how far away, I can control Ryou."
"Let him go." Bakura tightened his grip on Ryou's arm.
"I will not." Malik finished, walking out of the room leisurely. "I rather enjoy Ryou here. I'll be taking him back, now."
In a quick move, Ryou pulled himself free, tumbling towards Malik, who caught him easily. Malik pulled the shorter teen to his chest, kissing the top of his head. Bakura glared, recognizing defeat.
"I...I want to talk to him." Bakura conceded. "The real Ryou."
Malik considered this, stroking Ryou's hair. "Come back tomorrow."
Bakura opened his mouth to object. Malik cut him off. "I didn't completely bury him. I only imposed a new personality that can be switched on and off."
"...Then let me talk to him." Bakura urged. I can at least...apologize, or-
"Tomorrow." Malik shook his head. "I've used too much magic in a small area, over a short period of time, today. Tomorrow."
"...Fine." Bakura felt himself spit, before stalking out without a second glance. It's not like I care, anyway.
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"Oh, Ryou." Malik chuckled after the door had slammed. "Your Spirit is a volatile one."
Ryou shifted in his arms, but said nothing.
"Good point." Malik laughed. "Come. Let's take a shower together, okay?"
"...Okay." Ryou finally replied softly.
He pulled his hands through the white hair with a smile. "I'll even let you wash me off, mm?" Malik laughed, tugging the shorter male towards the bathroom with ease. Ryou stumbled behind him.
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Bakura collapsed onto the couch in Ryou's house, defeated. It'd been simple enough to pick the lock, to pick the lock on several of Ryou's neighbor's houses, in fact, but his fun was spoiled once he had realized every lock in this modern era was the same.
You have your own body, now, he admonished himself. What will you do with it?
It was an excellent question he had posed to himself, one there was no easy answer for.
He was bored. Bakura could admit it - he was bored out of his mind. He'd gone searching for the Pharaoh, determined for a duel, or at least a trip gathering information by acting as Ryou, but there was nothing, no sign anywhere. Though wary of the fact that there was now nothing tying him to the world like Ryou's body had, he had searched for the Pharaoh, and for what? Nothing. The damned man poked his nose in where it was unwelcome, but when he was actually sought after, he vanished. Figured.
He knew he would be pulled into the world of the Pharaoh's memories, eventually. It was a question of when.
A small part of him had felt relief at being unable to locate the others, as loathe as he was to admit it. Even if he would not have dueled, he wasn't sure if he could have pulled off his landlord's act while the memory of his host's dazed eyes haunted him.
His host.
His former host.
Bakura knew it wasn't fair, what he had gotten the teen into. He deserved a chance at freedom. Bakura didn't deny that. He'd promised Ryou himself for years, whispering in his mind that if he just cooperated, Bakura would eventually leave. Ryou had always jumped for freedom, a chance to reclaim his life, if only for a few weeks before the spirit repossessed him. Yes, his former host deserved to make his own life. Bakura grimaced to think what Malik had done to him.
"Come back tomorrow."
He could have months, years, even, before the Pharaoh decided to open the door to their past. Bakura settled back thoughtfully.
The least I can do is help Ryou's situation. A plan began to form in Bakura's mind, an idea of what could be done.
Oh, you'll see me tomorrow, Malik Ishtar. You certainly will.
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I know it wasn't worth the wait, ah. I promise the upcoming chapters get better.
Reviews are my incentive to get the next chapter going. Please consider taking the time to do so. :)