Seventeen reviews! Excellent start for the story, eh? I thinks so. (bobs head up and down) So anyhoo, how's life for everyone? Just began posting another new story titled "The Deep." (shivers) It's sooo dark and awesome! Whoot!

So have any of you read "from the mixed up files of mrs. basil e. frankweiler"? (not sure if I spelled that right) Great book. Kids run away and live in a museum. (cackles) Soooo much fun!

inuyashapup: How can I leave it there? (smirk) You're lucky you weren't reading Cry of the Wicked while I was still posting it. I gave the most horrible cliffies in the world. I always strive to do so...(cackles)

DayDreamer23182: (pats on head) S'okay you forgot to review. I forgive you. (huggles tightly) Wow. I'm in a mushy mood today, neh? Yessss Minkah-kins gets a gun! Whoot!

Silver Mirror: Ah the evil annoying people that seem to alway be there. Me hates them. You have my sympathies, honey. (nods solemnly) Here's a pitchfork. It may come in handy...(whistles innocently)

Wish-full Thinker: Glad you're enjoying it. Things are getting harder and harder as the number of stories I'm writing builds up. One must be incredibly careful not to make the ficcies too simliar to each other. Thanks for all the compliments! (as always!)

Under Finger and Thumb: (sighs sadly) Welllll...he doesn't shoot anyone...YET. (cackles) Ooooh the drama! Um...Minkah won't drink the booze I'm afraid...That'll be explained later. (Kura: Waddaya mean I won't drink it!) Ferris: hehe.

DreamingChild: (laughs) Minkura? That's cute! But as you--and many others say--Mink's even better...and will be brought up waaaay later in the story. Cha!

Spryte: Thank you! You have no idea how confused I've been about this whole "pocky" business! That takes a weight off my lovely-oh-so-smooth shoulders (although their covered in claw marks at the moment.) No I'm not going crazy sex-like. The scratches are from my new ratties Luigi and Pug.

tenshiamanda1987: I'm glad you liked the part with Anubis. I just wanted to show a different side to the little psychopath (Minkah, I mean) He's so adorable! (cuddles) Ow!

redconvoy: A new reviewer! (glomps) Hello! This is exciting! (laughs) True true, Ryou's got no clue what's coming for him! (cackles insanely)

TheGodFish: (shakes head) Try not to drool on your keyboard, honey. That sounds messy. Yes they're going to meet this chappie. Poor Ryou. The new ratties? Luigi and Pug. (giggles) They're adorable and stinky! -.o...yah. Oh, happy easter to you too!

blackalbino: (laughs) I was wondering what BABA was. (cackles more) Don't worry. My brain ceases to function all the time now. Can be very annoying. Yes let's all pity Marik and Misa. They're both so cuddly and warm. (snuggles)

Tabby: No, he didn't push the Anubis statue on the guard. He wuvs the anubis!...doesn't mean he won't flatten the guy with something else though. (cackles) You ask a lot of questions, don't you? (grin) I'm afraid not too many of them will be answered in this chappie, honey. (huggles)

SapphireBlade: Hey, if I were locked in a museum I'd be running around like the freak I am too! (cackles) But that's just me. (othervoice: You need help. really.) Shut up! I'm talking to my reviewers! (voice: Scaring them, is more like it.) Grrr...(smiles sweetly) Sorry honey. (runs off to beat head with big green pillow)

dragonlady222: Minkah is Ryou's cousin, eh? (smiles) Perhps...not...maybe...Keep that in mind, honey. (winks)

Sirithiliel: Yes MAYHEM! Mayhem makes my job fun! Whoot!

Broken Mirrors and Tainted Promises: Yes our Minkah's angry. (that's an understatement!) and "confused"? Hmm...I suppose he could be. Or mabye everyone else is. (head spinning) All right, now I'm getting confused myself. Meh. Need...more...sugar...

Joey-lover: I agree. It would be kick-butt awesome to run around a museum!...esp. with a psychomaniac! (readers: O.o...) Eheheeh!

Unseeing

I sought for the reality

Of this cold, unfeeling world.

I thought if I just sat and watched

The answers would unfurl.

Chapter 4: Reunion?

(Ryou's POV)

We hurry up the front steps of the museum to the large stone doors. They are covered in carvings of many ancient civilizations. One could stand forever in front of them just trying to match the myths to them. We have no time though. Otousan reaches out only to find the doors…

"Locked! Damn it! Why haven't they sent someone?" Otousan shouts angrily as he pounds on them insistently.

I stand back, never having seen my father so enraged before. I really don't know him all that well but this is completely new to me. He stops as the door on the left creaks open revealing a burly man with a gun in hand.

"I'm sorry. The museum's closed today…"

"I'm Charles Bakura. Mr. Kroy called," Otousan states tersely, pushing past the man. I follow, the door slamming securely behind me, the echo booming though the large room.

The ceiling must be at least 170 feet above us, frescos and mosaics flowing about it. Most of them look like ancient Greek, though I could be wrong. Along the walls are statues from every era of history; some proud and golden, others stone and weatherworn, features hardly recognizable. The floor has dark and light gray stones, shiny as if they were just polished. The lights are dim since the museum is not open today.

"Why are you carrying that?" my father hisses, noting the handgun.

"Charles, thank goodness!" We turn to see a man dressed up in a black business suit rushing toward us. He's of rather short stature; black hair slicked back and goatee barely visible in the shadows. He adjusts his tiny spectacles that are balancing on his nose as he comes to a stop in front of us, two guards standing behind him—both armed as the first.

"What's with all the guns?" Otousan questions again, voice boiling with rage.

The guards look at one another with uncomfortable expressions. Mr. Kroy is the one who speaks.

"Charles, I have to put into account my mens' safety…not to mention the boy's reputation…" Reputation?

"Where is he?" Otousan snaps, face red.

We all jump at the sound of screaming and something crashing heavily to the floor. We take off down the central hallway, Otousan and I in the lead. We enter a room full of clothing, paintings, and whatnot from the Middle Ages. The guards rush forward at the sight of one of their comrades squashed beneath a trio of queenly manikins, his limbs flailing about helplessly from under them. I try to stifle a laugh, the sight of the buff man pinned down under the figures of three elderly women with gray curly hair almost being too much for me.

"He's out to kill us all!" Mr. Kroy exclaims, cowering behind me.

"No he's not. He's just toying with us so calm down already," my father sighs in exasperation, glancing around.

"He's killed before, Bakura! Once a creature tastes blood it becomes an addiction. They crave it more and more…"

"You're acting like he's some wild animal that's going to rip out your throat at any given moment," Otousan mutters starting off down another hallway leading to adjacent exhibits.

"So what if I am?" Mr. Kroy hisses as he and I follow my father down the hall, the guards coming up behind us. "Mark my words…"

"Oh shut up already," my father growls.

My eyes widen. I've never seen him like this before. Not that I'm aghast, Mr. Kroy deserved that. He's quite annoying. But what's this about Minkah killing people?...he doesn't seriously think…I clench my jaw as I watch my father's back. What if it's true?

"Excuse me?" the curator yowls angrily, jogging on his short legs to catch up with my father who's paying him little heed. "I demand an apology for that very rude…"

We all shout at the sound of gunshots and frantic yelling coming from down the hall. Otousan takes off and I find myself unable to even come close behind him.

"Don't shoot him!" my father screams up ahead, feet pounding on the floor as he disappears into the dark room ahead.

The noise ceases. I grit my teeth, pushing my legs close to their limit. When I reach the doorway I find Otousan and six or seven guards glancing about uncertainly in the dim light. It's a dinosaur exhibit, the bones of the ancient beasts looming overhead and all about, staring down at our small party with empty sockets. The head of one is smashed on the floor; tiny bones shattered like thick glass. I feel myself shiver at the shadows playing off the walls, making it appear the monsters' number his tripled.

(Minkah's POV)

I smirk to myself as I loom around a large skeleton of some ancient beast, keeping my eyes on my prey. There are three guards circling the room, cowering beneath the bones of the monsters. I lick my lips, waiting for my opportunity. One mutters nervously to the others, taking out a flashlight and turning it on, emitting a small beam of light along the walls and skeletons. I roll my eyes. Yeah, like that's going to help.

I really wouldn't mind putting them out of their wretched misery but it's strictly against my orders. As much as I'd like to…I shake my head, clearing those thoughts from my mind. They told me not to, and I must obey that wish. There will be killings the plenty…just not yet. It'd ruin everything.

I tense at the sound of more footsteps approaching. I quietly climb the stairs off to the side that lead to the viewing platform overlooking the room. Four more guards enter, huffing and looking extremely agitated. Heh. They should be. Time to make this more interesting. I stealthily sneak up to the edge of the platform, only a rickety banister made of rustying metal between me and the dead drop. I pull out the gun I took off the man who I crushed under the old lady figures. That was amusing. Time to mess with their minds. I scoot on my stomach to the far end of the wooden platform, taking careful aim at the wires holding up the head of one of the dinosaurs. I have to suppress a cackle as it goes down with a crash, the men all shooting blindly in their confusion. Pathetic. Utterly pathetic.

I stiffen at the sound of someone shouting as they approach the room. I know that voice. Sure enough he enters, white hair plainly visible in the darkness. I feel my hand clench around the gunIt's him. I fight the urge to shoot him now. That would blow my cover completely, deeming the mission useless. Damn. I growl, slinking back into the shadows only to freeze when the boy enters the room, large brown eyes glancing about warily. Well, isn't this interesting…

(Ryou's POV)

"Minkah! Minkah!" my father calls, voice echoing eerily.

He begins speaking in Arabic to my cousin—wherever he is. I can't tell what he's saying; only catching a few words. I know only a small number of simple phrases, not having really learned the language. I feel the hairs on my arms stand on end as we wait. From beside me I can see Mr. Kroy trembling, motioning for the guards to keep their guns up.

I suddenly tense, sensing another presence. It's that feeling one gets when walking alone down the street at night and becomes aware of an unknown other but turning to find no one there. Slowly rotating, I find no such case, meeting two hazy gray eyes staring intensely back into mine. I open my mouth to say something but can't make a sound. His skin is golden like Marik and Malik's, light sandy hair falling down just brushing his shoulders. There's a deep double-crossed scar on the right side of his face that gives a sense of unspoken danger about him. My eyes widen even more when I catch a glint in the dim light, looking down to see a long, curved blade in his hand. Otousan and the others apparently haven't noticed, continuing to stare about, calling out.

"Minkah?" I whisper, my voice incredibly shaky.

His hard eyes narrow, a look of contempt on his face. I feel myself cower back under the stony gaze, too afraid to take my eyes off him.

"Um…Otousan…" I squeak, my voice a few octaves higher than normal.

There's an intake of breaths from the men behind us, the clicking sound of the guns. Someone comes up slowly behind me, clacking of footsteps the only sound besides the drumming of my heartbeat in my ears.

"Minkah," my father's voice murmurs from beside me.

My cousin's face darkens, grip on the blade in his hand visibly tightening. I feel my stomach churn at the look of pure hatred that's being directed at the two of us.

"What'd I tell you? He's raving…" Mr. Kroy begins, stopping when my father holds up a hand for silence.

Otousan starts speaking in Arabic to my cousin whose eyes dart from Otousan to me. After a few minutes it turns into a shouting match between the two of them, Minkah's face holding a look of pure vehemence. He motions at me with wild angry gestures as he screams at my father. Mr. Kroy and the guards stare dumbly at the two of them, turning to me for an explanation, which I can't give. This goes on for around ten minutes, Minkah continually glaring at my father and me with hatred. Otousan finally seems to have convinced him to settle down…at least for the time being. Minkah somewhat unwillingly backs down, sliding the knife into a sheath that's barely visible under his baggy-tee shirt that's too big for him, eyes never leaving me. Otousan turns.

"Come Ryou. We're leaving now," he states, not so much as glancing at Mr. Kroy and the guards. "Minkah." My cousin—to everyone's surprise—follows us silently as we stride off down the hall in a morose assembly, not a sound save our footsteps echoing down the empty corridors.

(Minkah's POV)

I cannot believe that bastard! I want to kill him! Peel his freakin' white skin from his gangly body! I grit my teeth as I scrub the oil and dirt from my hair, standing in the shower at their quaint home. I don't know how the heck I'm going to do this. I'll make it in the end; it's getting there that's the problem.

I'm not surprised really by the bastard's lies. Of course he wouldn't want anyone to know the truth. It would utterly ruin his son's image of him. I feel a smirk form on my face. I could work this to my advantage.

(Ryou's POV)

Otousan and I sit on the couch in the living room. Misa is sprawled out across the floor, her silver coat shimmering in the last of the sunlight of the day peeping through the windows. The sound of the shower upstairs is barely audible, only a light humming. I stare down at my hands, fists clenched. There are so many things I want to ask—that I know are not true. I have my suspicions but know Otousan won't enlighten me further; especially right now: his eyes are holding a faraway look, distant and deep.

I slink down to the floor next to Misa, scratching her behind the ear and earning a purr of affection. Otousan continues to look off into nothingness, jaw clenched. I sigh heavily, bowing my head as I stare at the floor, the short blue carpet changes shades slightly as I run my hand across it in slow gentle motions. Suddenly there's a socked foot before me. I look up to see it's connected to a body. Minkah's standing with his hands at his sides dressed in a pair of baggy jeans and a white tee-shirt of mine that's too large for me. The knife sheath is securely fastened about his waist. My jaw drops when I notice his hair: It's white.

(Minkah's POV)

I stare coldly down at the boy who's just sitting there gawking at me. I look over at the man; he's staring off into oblivion, not paying us any heed. I glance back at the kid who's still staring at me with large brown eyes.

"What?" I ask gruffly, quite annoyed by his gaping.

The man jumps to his feet in surprise, his glasses slightly askew. The cat on the floor darts off into another room. The kid quickly shuts his mouth, finally blinking.

"Minkah…" the man begins.

"Shut up," I hiss in Arabic. It's so much easier to insult him in my first language.

He frowns. "There's no need to talk to me like…"

"You have no right to tell me what to do!" I growl.

"Minkah, you have to listen to me. You have to trust me."

I break into a fit of humorless laughter, the boy on the ground cringing.

"Trust you?" I smirk, chuckling darkly. "Trust you…tell me, does he trust you?" I point to the other. The man looks down at the little bitch, a look of regret on his face. "Hmm…so he does. I bet I could change that rather quickly..."

"That's enough," the bastard states firmly. He turns to the boy. "Ryou, why don't you show Minkah to his room? He must be exhausted."

I glare but decide not to argue for now. I am tired. The boy scrambles to his feet, striding off toward the stairs.

"This way."

I follow, trudging behind him as he leads the way, pausing momentarily to give the man one of my signature looks that says this is not over. Of course, he already knows that. I must admit the house is smaller than I imagined. It's two stories, a light gray residence with large windows in the front. He leads me down the hall.

"There's the bathroom—as you already know; my bedroom; my father's room is that one down the hall; yours is here."

He opens the door, stepping aside so I can go in first. I enter, glancing about nonchalantly. Hmm, not much. There's a small bed in the corner, a dresser…not much, like I said. I stop when I look over at the wall to the right. Hanging on it is a map of the world and a poster of the Great Sphinx. The boy seems to notice, smiling almost embarrassedly.

"Um…I hope you don't mind the posters. I was trying to make the room more…homey."

I don't answer, wandering over to the bed and slumping down on my back. Hmm…well, it beats that hotel room back in Cairo. Staring up blankly at the white ceiling I wonder how long the job will take…Apparently I'll be attending the kid's school. Oh well, it'll most likely make my assignment easier in the end.

"…Minkah?"

I glance over out of the corner of my eye to see him staring at me nervously.

"Hmm?" I grunt, not interested.

"I…have you met my father before?" he asks softly.

I quirk an eyebrow at this unexpected change of subjects. The boy seems to notice my confusion.

"You both acted like you'd met one another before…back at the museum," he adds somewhat shyly.

"Why do you think that?" I ask brusquely staring up at the ceiling again as I wait for his answer.

"Your eyes," he whispers.

I don't respond in any way, waiting. The silence goes on, save for the other shuffling his feet uncomfortably. I close my eyes, making it quite clear that the conversation is done. After hesitating he quietly leaves, lingering for a moment in the doorway. After he's gone I open my eyes again, glancing over to the empty entrance. This kid isn't as dense as his father assumes him to be. It's not surprising though; the man and his comrades didn't make up a very convincing story to give him. This probably means the truth won't take long to get out. That dramatically limits my time to do the job. Oh well, adds some spice to it. I pull out my knife and run it over the length of my arm, gliding it over the many cuts and scars already there. My eyes twitch slightly as I watch in morbid fascination as the crimson slide down my flesh. There will be more to come.

(Ryou's POV)

I walk softly from the room and down the stairs, heartbeat thumping loudly in my head. I hate this; hate feeling like there's a play going on and I'm the only one who doesn't know the plot. Clenching my jaw, I stride swiftly through the living room only to stop in my tracks. In the dining room is my father hunched over the same damn manila folder as earlier, talking hoarsely to someone on the phone. I clench my fists, coming as close to the doorway as I dare.

"…and what am I supposed to tell my son? I can't just say…" Otousan's voice breaks as whoever it is on the other end cuts him off. "Counseling?…I suppose that will work…"

I feel myself bristle. More lies. How many people are in on this? What the hell is going on?

"Just…how long do you think this will take?" my father's voice is weary, beaten. There's a long moment of silence. I can't see his face, only his stooped shoulders and the back of his bowed head. "I…understand. Right. Good bye."

I slink back quietly, racing as noiselessly as possible up the stairs to my room. I rush over to my desk, taking out a new red notebook and pen. After securely locking my door I begin to furiously write:

Minkah and Otousan seem to know one another; Otousan claims he's never met Minkah before.

"Counseling?"

More people are involved in this. Who?

Long lost cousin? Where are the records of his father—Otousan's brother?

What's in the manila folder?

I grit my teeth, closing the notebook sharply as I finish this and slamming my fists on the desk in frustration. I will not be kept in the dark. It's time to find out the truth—one way or another…

Our poor little Ryou's having probs. And Minkah?...he just has issues. Whoot!

So have you all noticed I've changed the category? (smirk) Oh yes.

Minkah: I hate this story.

Ferris: Why? You got a gun!

Minkah: But I didn't get to kill anyone!

Ferris: Yet.

Minkah: O.O

Yami: Oooooh no.

Marik: Why am I whispering? WHY CAN'T I BLOODY TALK?

Malik: (rolls eyes) Oh I'm sure there's a reason.

Marik: >.