Hikari: Wow, this chapter is my longest so far! I worked REALLY hard on this, so please enjoy!

Yamie: By the way, "Baka" means something along the lines of stupid.

Also, Speaking 'like this' is when a character thinks to themselves.

One final thing; Marik is the hikari and Mariku is the yami in this story. Like that isn't a spoiler for this chapter. ;)

Hikari: Yu-Gi-Oh! is NOT mine. If it was, I'd get rid of all the filter episodes.

Saturday: 9 Days Before

"Baka, what do you think?" Ryou was holding up a blue and white striped t-shirt next to a plain teal button-down. 'Baka', also known as Bakura, was in Ryou's bedroom helping him get dressed for Anzu's party. The entire day had been filled with Ryou's pathetic attempts at giving Bakura a nickname. "It shows that we're true friends," he had proclaimed.

"I think you should quit calling me that! Do you even know what it means?"

"…But I think it's cute! What if I called you something like Fluffy? Well, you do look like a Fluffy…"

"Not on your life."

Ryou pouted at the floating spirit. Sure it had only been one day since they had met, but it felt so much longer. Before he met Bakura, he never realized how lonely his life was. Even though Bakura was loud, rude, and still wouldn't explain very much about himself, he was the best company Ryou had ever had. He filled the void that had grown larger and larger as the years had passed without his parents.

Bakura, noticing that Ryou was spacing out as usual, snapped his fingers in front of Ryou's face causing the white-haired teen to leap backwards several feet.

"Come on, hikari! What don't you understand about free booze? The earlier you get there, the more you can guzzle before someone calls the cops!"

Ryou looked positively appalled. "I'm only eighteen!"

"And your point is…?"

"You are not allowed to drink any sort of alcoholic beverage until you are twenty-one years old," Ryou stated as if quoting a rule book.

Bakura took a minute to think before he came up with a comeback. "Rules were made to be broken!"

"Not true!"

"It is so true!"

"Not."

"Is."

"Not!"

"I'm thousands of years older than you, so I would think that I'd know!" Bakura blurted out. He had never had the patience to deal with petty arguments like these.

Ryou was silent, wide mocha eyes glancing over at the ghostly presence. Bakura clasped a hand over his mouth as if he had spoken too much.

What did Bakura mean? No one lived that long, obviously! Well, this was a spirit Ryou was thinking about…

"How old are you exactly?" He spoke aloud as he continued his train of thought. "What are you?"

Bakura gave a forced grin that turned out like a pained frown. "Isn't it time for you to–"

"No it's not. I have about an hour until Anzu's party, and I want some answers this instant." To prove his point, he sat on his leather couch and kicked his feet up. The wooden coffee table in front of him shook slightly from the impact.

Bakura clenched his teeth, but after seeing the look of determination glistening in Ryou's eyes, finally caved. After all, he had no clue how long he was destined to be with this kid. He might as well know a little bit about himself…

"Three thousand years ago, I lived in Egypt."

Ryou sat intently, eyes fixed on Bakura begging for more information. However, after a few minutes, he realized that was all that Bakura wanted to say.

"And…" Ryou hinted.

"There is no and. That's all you need to know about me."

Ryou's eyes got wide in shock, fists clenched tightly. "That's all you want to tell me? That was hardly anything! Aren't we supposed to be friends? All I know about you is that your name is Bakura, you live in the Millennium Ring, you're some kind of five thousand year old ghost thing, and that you used to live in Egypt!"

"Three."

Ryou turned his head up sharply, eyes blazing in fury. "Excuse me?"

Bakura shook his head and put a bony hand up to his lips to hide his smirk. "I'm only three thousand years old. I thought you were the listening type, hikari! You make me feel so elderly!"

Ryou had nothing to say to this. Bakura wasn't going to go into any more detail, that much was as clear as day. The question was why he wouldn't do it. What, was he a mass murderer in the past? Maybe he was a serial killer! Was Ryou his next victim?

'No!' He chastised mentally. 'Bakura is nice, kind, and listens to me better than anyone else. He's just a little mysterious, that's all. There's nothing to be suspicious about!'

With those thoughts in mind, Ryou decided it was time to change. He made a spur of the moment decision and grabbed the striped shirt that he had abandoned on the floor a few minutes ago. After he went into the bathroom to change, he came out looking so fabulous that Bakura had to do a double take. Ryou's shirt hugged his skin in all the right places, showing how skinny he was yet flowing enough to give the illusion of faint muscles despite his small frame. His gray leather pants–it was a mystery as to where such an innocent kid got them–followed his shirt's example by giving the appearance of muscles. Bakura, feeling like he needed to critic the perfected look, searched for flaws.

"You'll be chilly unless you wear a jacket." He floated over to the opened coat room and pointed to a cerulean colored jacket with a fancy collar.

Ryou grabbed the coat, threw on a pair of gym shoes–he didn't own any other pairs after all–and opened the front door to exit. Bakura tried to say something to him, but the door's high-pitched squeak drowned it out.

"What?"

Bakura rolled his eyes, his trademark smirk on his face. "You didn't think that I'd let you forget the most important part, did you?"

Ryou scratched his head and cocked it to one side in confusion. "What do you mean?"

A pointed finger in the direction of the coffee table reminded Ryou the obvious. There lay the beautiful Egyptian artifact, its golden frame polished to perfection. Ryou darted into the apartment and slipped it on under his shirt, relieved that it still didn't show through.

"Now we can exit, right Bakura?"

"Do you have a phone?"

After Ryou ran in the house to grab his cell phone, he repeated his question to Bakura, exasperated. Bakura did a final check of the building before nodding his head. He brushed his fingers over his snowy locks in a failed attempt to straighten the spikes out. A mischievous grin painted his features as he eyed Ryou's phone.

"Let's party."

His violet eyes widened with pain as images blurred before him. Were they visions, or just random nothings like usual? There was a girl, a brown-haired girl… An invite with a rosy pink envelope was in her hand. She grinned and lowered her shirt as far as it would go. There was something being said, but he couldn't hear it. Accessing memories was such a taxing job… He tried again putting more focus into it this time. She poked him square in the forehead and spoke.

"You're coming tonight, aren't you?"

He lifted his head from the ratty couch he was laying on, finally getting the information he needed. The letter, where was that letter? Where did that damned host hide it? He scrambled around the shabby one-roomed apartment in a frantic search, tripping over his large black combat boots in the process. He knocked papers off the middle coffee table where his violet trench coat lay, shoving unpaid bills, junk mail, and other things into a tipped over garbage can in the process.

"Where the hell are you, you stupid paper?" He smashed his fist on the table making a mountain of crumbled food wrappers and more envelopes fall onto the carpeted floor. There, under the mess, was what he was looking for. It was the girl's party invitation, the one from his host's memories. Anzu. Her name was Anzu. She was in a lot of his host's classes; the little slut who wouldn't stop winking at him and twirling her annoying mass of greasy brown locks. How could he forget that?

RING RING!

The phone, now where was that thing? More searching, more papers, and there it was under everything, of course. He'd have to have his host clean up the clutter later.

"What do you want?" He spoke in a deep voice trying to threaten whoever had called him. He was busy! Collar ID was a waste of time for him since he never bothered to check anyway.

The voice that responded was familiar to the man, too familiar in fact. It was loud and rude, yet cunning and clever. He grinned in a way he hadn't done for years as he pictured its trademark smirk.

"What, can't an old friend call without such a rude response?" A bout of laughter sounded, colored dark by his deep voice before he stopped abruptly. "Look, let's cut to the chase. By answering the phone, I can tell that you've found a body and by hearing my voice, you can tell that I have too." The voice paused, uncertain as to how it would follow those words. "My hikari is going to a party tonight, a girl named Anzu is hosting. You know her?"

The man holding the phone clenched it tightly in excitement. That meant that they were close to each other. What were the odds? "Yes, my host was invited as well."

"Excellent." A pause lasted for a minute before he continued. "I need to go; my hikari doesn't realize that I'm in possession of the body. Ha, he doesn't even know I can be in possession! He's a real dumb one, but there are a few things about him that interest me… Maybe you should meet him... He's fascinating, really." His voice sounded distant.

"I don't care about your host and you shouldn't either. I know nothing about mine, and you don't see me complaining. Forget him, and get to the Ra damned party already. I've missed you…" The phone was starting to dent in the man's strong grip. Tears glistened in his eyes, but he held them in for fear that his heavy eyeliner would smear.

"You're no fun as usual, my love. I'll see you there, and Mariku?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't start chugging beer without me. I have a good idea for a drinking game." Mariku could picture him winking at him, only not in the annoying way that Anzu did to his host daily. It was just like the old days, carefree yet loving. His heart swelled with thoughts of how the night would play out.

"Just remember the plan, Bakura. Don't let your host get in our way." Mariku heard a light sigh before a click on the other line and hung up. He remembered how, so many years ago, they had tried this plan, a plan to finally get back together after thousands of years of being apart. Now, by some miracle, they were going to see each other again. He should be ecstatic, shouldn't he? He had missed Bakura to no end! Then why was he so infuriated? No, he knew why. He could sense it in the white-haired man. But no, he had to be wrong. Bakura had said it himself long ago, they were soul mates! Mariku ran a tanned hand through his bleach-blond hair in deep thought.

So why was Bakura taking such a keen interest in this host of his? It boggled Mariku's mind. Wasn't he better than any other pathetic mortal Bakura found on the street?

As long as Bakura remained in control of his host the entire time and as long as his dumbass of a hikari didn't come out, they would be fine. The last thing Mariku needed was his slut of a hikari attracting more mates to him in a vain attempt at happiness. Prostitution wasn't the answer! It simply annoyed Mariku who was left as the one to dispose of them.

The slut's name, what was it again? Malik? No, it was Marik, so grotesque and disgustingly similar to his own name. Mariku would make sure that Marik would never see the light of day again, especially with Bakura so close to him. Finally, they would be reunited!

And nothing would get in his way.

One extremely long stroll due to the fact that Ryou didn't have enough money to pay for a bus or taxi later, both he and Bakura arrived at Anzu's house. No, more like Anzu's mansion. Painted a shade lighter than Ryou's hair, the house had many turrets and fancy plants hung outside of it giving an elegant feel to the abode. It had approximately three floors, not counting their mammoth sized basement, and around forty-seven rooms. (It's amazing what you hear people talking about during a typical lunchtime in solitude.)

"Close your mouth, hikari. It's downright embarrassing." Bakura rolled his eyes, unimpressed with the abode. He'd seen much more graceful structures in Egypt.

Ryou, noticing that he was the only one gawking at the sheer mass of the house, looked at the ground awkwardly. The largest buildings he'd ever seen were in books or movies. This blew them all out of the water.

Walking into the house, the first thing Ryou noticed was the sound. Music blasted from surround-sound speakers, switching from pop to heavy metal in a matter of minutes. The noise was deafening, the kind that only teenagers could withstand. He didn't keep up with what music was popular, so he had no idea what song was on currently.

Lights, streamers, glitter, and anything else you could imagine was draped along the walls and staircases. Wine coolers and beer bottles were located in the back corner of the enormous dance floor. If he had a dollar for each empty beer bottle on the floor, he'd be able to buy a bigger apartment and a fancy new car.

"Watch it, loser!" A boy slurred to his right as he knocked into Ryou's shoulder. Ryou moved away as per instinct while Bakura stiffened. It sickened him that Ryou's first instinct was to run away from the unknown.

It occurred to Ryou then that he had no one to talk to at this party and that no one wanted to talk to him. Noticing the jock group eyeing him and suspecting that Ushio was among them, he decided to take refuge on the second floor which seemed less crowded than the first.

"Hey hot stuff. Looking for a date?" A girl whispered seductively in Ryou's ear causing the white-haired teen to jump. He whirled around to come face-to-face with the second sluttiest girl of Domino High. Nosaka Miho, deemed Miho for short, with her long bluish purple hair tied back in a messy ponytail to keep out of her face.

"I… I mean… I'm not…" Ryou had no idea how to answer her question. He didn't like her, he was–

"Come on, I'm the reason why you were invited in the first place. I've always had my eye on you, the cute little shy kid in the corner, so I called up my best buddy Anzu and asked if she'd let you come. I'll bet you're wonderful in a bed, hmm? Let's test my theory right now…" Her nails, painted pink to match the miniskirt and v-neck top she was wearing, clawed at Ryou's hair. It was palpable that she had had one too many sips of alcohol. Ryou was petrified. What was going on? How was he to handle such a situation? He was about to start hyperventilating when Miho suddenly dropped her hands.

"Tristan, I had no idea you'd be here! Come on; let's go rock the bed if you know what I mean…" In a flash, she was running after a tall brown-haired boy who embraced her before carrying her off to another room downstairs.

Ryou took the opportunity of being alone to run into the nearest bathroom before breaking down on the toilet's closed seat. His heart was pounding out of his chest and sweat rolled down his forehead.

Bakura, who had been watching the mess before him the whole time, stood next to Ryou in his ghostly form.

"So…" He began awkwardly.

"I… I need to tell you something, Baka…" Ryou looked up slowly.

"If you promise to never call me that again, then you may proceed."

"I promise… Bakura, this is really hard for me to say since not even my dad knows this, no one knows this, but I'm… I'm–"

"Gay?"

"Gay. Wait, what? How did you know that?" Bakura's eyes flashed and he smirked in a way that meant he knew something Ryou didn't.

"You seem to have forgotten that we're sharing a body now, Ryou. Despite the fact that we're two different people, we generally share the same mind. I've been alive for thousands of years more than you, so I can easily shield my thoughts. You however…" He paused dramatically, still smiling. "You are absolutely awful at it! It's been on your mind pretty much since I first made myself known to you."

Ryou glared at Bakura who was now laughing his head off. Ryou didn't see any humor in this at all.

"So you've been keeping things from me? Is that how our friendship is going? What else are you keeping from me?" He shrieked the last part before storming out of the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. If Bakura had been solid, he would have smacked right into it. Being a spirit however, he passed right through the door. Quick as a wink, he took control of Ryou's body to stop him from making a scene at the party, a scene he knew the boy would regret later on.

'Whatever, I'll deal with Ryou later. Where's Mariku? Is he even here yet?'

Ryou saw darkness. He felt darkness. He was darkness. It was as if someone had turned off all the lights in his vision as well as tore himself away from his body. He sat in pitch black unable to move or feel around for some source of light. That didn't stop him from thinking though. This had happened to him once before, how long ago was that? Did time pass in this new shadowy land? Also, was he all alone?

Wait… Where was Bakura?

"Tristan, get some more beers for me and this lovely lady over here," slurred a commanding voice. The poor brunette had become Marik's slave the moment he entered the establishment, fifty-two minutes late on the dot. The first thing he had done was not greet Anzu when she waved at him, but to make a beeline for Miho, Tristan's girl. It was one of his hobbies after all: stealing another person's love interest was what he lived for. It was just so easy! It always had been for him, ever since he was in diapers…

Suddenly, he felt himself go numb. Miho was saying something to him, but he didn't hear her. He couldn't see Tristan glaring at him anymore either. The music seemed to vanish along with the flashing lights. Everything seemed to just fade away…

"I swear to Ra, if Mariku stood me up…" Bakura had been searching the house for the last two hours with no signs of the blonde nutcase. He was beginning to lose hope when–

"There you are, you moron! What the hell took you so long?" Not that Bakura cared. It had been about a thousand years since he had seen the handsome man and to be honest, he was still just as sexy, if not, then sexier.

Mariku didn't bother to answer Bakura. He merely grabbed him in a hug before they locked lips in a passionate kiss. Mariku had missed this feeling, this tingling of his tongue, so much…

"W-what the hell are those guys doing?"

"Are they kissing? That's so gross!"

"I thought Marik was straight…"

Both the white-haired teen and the blonde looked up to see themselves surrounded by modern-day school children gawking at them. It was quite disturbing, especially for Bakura and his anger issues…

"What the fuck do you think you're staring at? Go away! Shoo! Scram!" He waved his hand in a fanning motion hoping that they'd get the message. Sadly, they didn't. A familiar bluish purple haired girl with a skinny frame broke into the ring and ran up to Mariku.

"Marik, baby, what are you doing? You told me to wait in the room, remember?"

Mariku scratched his head. He didn't remember his host saying that, but it didn't really matter, now did it? Besides, he was terrible at reading memories. It gave him so many migraines.

"Get lost you pathetic piece of slutty shit. Go make out with someone who cares." With that, he grabbed Bakura's hand and shoved through the crowd of people until they were outside. Back indoors, gossip was spreading like wildfire that Marik and Ryou were gay for each other. Via texting, the entire school knew in less than ten minutes.

"I'm sorry Mariku… This was a bad idea. I didn't think about how our hikaris–"

"Wait, what did you say? They're hosts, Bakura. It's nothing more, nothing less, okay?" Mariku's eyes bore into Bakura's making him fumble for the correct words.

"R-right, sorry about that. I didn't think about how our hosts would impact those around us." Bakura's crimson eyes no longer gleamed with the joy that had when they first saw each other. He was ashamed that he'd make such a huge error on such an important night.

"It's okay, my host probably has to get home anyway," Mariku huffed.

"Wait, we can still hang out! We could go to a local bar, go clubbing, and maybe even settle in my hikari's house. It'll be fun."

Mariku spun around and downright glared at his lover. Bakura shrunk a little bit under the intense gaze. "W-what's wrong?"

"You said it again. Why did you give it a nickname? Why do you keep talking about your host? What about me and our meeting tonight and–" His voice cracked and he froze, not wanting to continue. He had said enough to get the point across.

Bakura forced a chuckle. "Look, there's nothing going on between me and my host. That's ridiculous! It's all in your head! Come on, let's just go –"

"No, I don't want to go anywhere with you. Not today at least. When you've shoved that damn host out of your head, give me a call. You should know the number, unless of course your host distracts you." Mariku knew he was being overly sensitive, but he wouldn't stop himself. He had waited patiently for the moment they'd meet after so many years, and this was not how he pictured things to go. His patience had finally run out.

"Goodbye Bakura. I hope you make the right choice, because I will not put up with this host business. I ignored Marik easily because I always waited for you, but if I'm truly not worth it, then by all means go try making out with your 'hikari'. I'd love to see how a spirit makes out with a solid object!"

Bakura's mouth hung open in pure shock. Never had Mariku spoken so out of turn like this. He was always quiet and passionate, but outspoken? Not at all no matter what Bakura did. He was the type of person who bottled up their emotions and only let them out during extremely rare circumstances.

'Then this must be one of those times…'

When he looked up, Mariku was gone, violet cape flowing behind him and jet-black combat boots stomping on the pavement. He considered running after him, but held back.

Did he really have feelings for his hikari? Even over the one man he has said years ago was worth his very life?

"One thing's clear… I have a lot of thinking to do…"

Yamie: R&R! Reviews make the world go 'round. :)

~midknightXXX