A/N: Wow, so many reviews! You guys rock, seriously. I was asked if this would turn into an abuse story between Bakura and Ryou, and the answer is no! Bakura is not that kind of boy, at least in this story. They'll have their fair share of problems, but nothing like that. Actually, there's no R/B in this chapter (sorry) but I was able to put some Malik in. I had so much fun writing his part, which surprised me, because he's the one I'm not used to writing. But oh, it was fun! Enjoy, everyone!


To say that things were awkward between Yuugi and Tenno would have been an understatement. Yuugi couldn't help feeling nervous about being around Tenno, and for that reason, he remained mostly silent on the walk to the Kaiba mansion, responding to Tenno with one word answers or grunts. Tenno seemed to understand that Yuugi wasn't in the mood to chat and eventually left off, leading the way without speaking and allowing Yuugi to trail behind and glare at the back of Tenno's head. What was he supposed to say? He didn't know anything about Tenno Yami, and quite honestly, he wasn't completely sure that he wanted to. There was something about the way that Tenno looked at him that made him feel uneasy.

After all, he still couldn't figure out why Tenno hadn't just taken the Millennium Puzzle away from him. Why was he allowing Yuugi to keep it? Why did he want to spend time with Yuugi? Was he still stuck on thinking that Yuugi was his hikari? Yuugi's violet eyes narrowed slightly and he frowned, his thumb idly trailing over the sharp corner of the Millennium Puzzle. If that was the truth, then Tenno was even more crazy (and annoying) than he had thought, and he would definitely have to come up with a way to dissuade the older boy from thinking that way.

"Here we are, Little One," said Tenno, breaking the silence as he paused in front of a massive set of iron gates. He stepped up to the bars and reached out, pressing a red button on a small gray box. The box crackled with static, and Tenno leaned down and spoke into it quietly. A moment later, the gates cranked open.

"Don't call me that," Yuugi mumbled, following Tenno up the pathway towards the mansion. It was the biggest place he'd ever seen, larger even than the Domino Museum, where his grandfather sometimes worked. As Tenno walked towards the front door, Yuugi paused and glanced up at the mansion, feeling a little overwhelmed. Just how many people lived in this massive place? Was Jou really there, or was this some trick of Tenno's?

"Yuugi!" Tenno called out. "Are you coming?"

Yuugi blinked, startled, and realized that Tenno had entered the house and waiting for him with the door still open. He blushed and hurried forward, entering the hall bas Tenno closed the door and doing his best to ignore the knowing smirk he was receiving. The mansion was even more wonderful on the inside, with evidence of expensive taste everywhere he looked. Just the contents of one room would probably sell for enough money to keep him and his grandfather living comfortably for a while year. Everyone knew that Kaiba Seto had a lot of money, but Yuugi had never imagined that one person could have so much.

"Yami!" a happy voice shouted, pulling Yuugi out of his thoughts. The shout was followed by a black and red blur that bolted into the hall and collided with Tenno, who stumbled backwards against the wall and laughed.

"Hello, Mokuba-kun," he greeted, patting the boy on his head.

Kaiba Mokuba glanced up with a bright grin and adoring eyes. At twelve years old, he already towered over his cousin by a good three inches, but that didn't seem to bother either of them. Yuugi watched with no small amount of curiosity as Mokuba began talking to Tenno in a rush about a Duel Monsters Tournament that Industrial Illusions had been working on setting up for the past year. His grandfather did a little business with Kaiba Corp now and then, so he'd often wondered about the Kaiba family. Rumour had it that Kaiba Seto was going to kick ass at the tournament, but he couldn't remember hearing much about the youngest Kaiba. Apparently the stories about how hard Seto worked to keep his little brother out of the limelight were all true.

"Oh, sorry," Mokuba said, cutting himself off suddenly and glancing in Yuugi's direction. "I didn't see you there. I'm Kaiba Mokuba. You must be Mutou Yuugi. It's very nice to meet you."

"You too," Yuugi said with a smile, shaking Mokuba's hand. He actually had to glance up into Mokuba's brown eyes, though he refused to let on that it annoyed him. Everyone was taller than Yuugi, even Tenno, and that was something that he had long since gotten used to.

"Are you participating in the tournament?" asked Mokuba, looking curious. "I can't imagine Yami's hi - mmph!"

Mokuba thrashed, squeaking in protest behind the strong hand that Tenno had clamped over his mouth. Tenno's other hand was wrapped around Mokuba's chest, pinning the boy's arms down so that he couldn't strike out, though that did nothing to stop him from kicking. Yuugi raised his eyebrows and looked between the two of them with open amusement, though he did wonder what Mokuba had been about to say. From the look on his face as he worked to restrain his cousin, Tenno appeared to be rather nervous, and that was unusual; Tenno had the tendency to exude confidence the way most people did nerves.

"Unhand my brother, cousin," said a new voice. "If you suffocate him, you won't need to worry about the Tournament because you won't be around to see it."

"Nii-sama!" Mokuba's voice was muffled, but the excitement was clear. Kaiba Seto smiled at his little brother, warmth shining from blue eyes that could – and did – become colder than ice. He was dressed simply for once in a pair of black slacks and a blue shirt that made the color of his eyes even more noticeable.

"A stick in the mud as always, Seto," Tenno muttered, reluctantly releasing Mokuba, who obviously hadn't minded the rough treatment too much, as he made no move to leave his cousin's side.

Stepping forward, Yuugi was about to introduce himself to Seto, whom he'd never officially met before, when an arm slid around his neck out of nowhere, slamming him back against a tall, lean body in a headlock. Yuugi yelped and squirmed, trying to free himself as the sound of Jounouchi Katsuya laughter rang in his ears. The headlock had been Jou's favourite trick since elementary school, and fortunately, Yuugi and Ryou had long since learned how to free themselves. A simple elbow, jabbed straight back into Jou's midsection, had the blonde doubling over with a pained yelp, allowing Yuugi to escape. He took several steps forward and to the side, almost but not quite hiding behind Tenno and Mokuba, just in case Jou got any more ideas.

"Shit, I was hoping you'd forgotten about that," Jou gasped, rubbing his side gingerly. There had been a time when his side had been black and blue from Yuugi and Ryou, both of whom possessed extremely pointy elbows, before Jou had learned that tackling Malik was a lot more fun. Malik was always interested in a mock fight, and Jou never had to hold back around him.

"If you want to fight, you know the rules. Track down Malik," said Yuugi sweetly, knowing exactly what Jou had been thinking. Carefully, he straightened the Millennium Puzzle, not noticing the way that Seto's eyes snapped to the object and studied both it and Yuugi keenly.

Jou grumbled and finally straightened up. "I might have to take him up on that. You and Ryou never did play fair."

Yuugi shot his friend an amused look. Jou could hardly talk about fair when he towered over all of his friends by a good foot, sometimes two. "Are you going to behave?"

A sneer was the only answer he got, followed by Jou grabbing his arm and physically tugging him out from behind Tenno and Mokuba. He hauled the willing Yuugi deeper into the mansion, towards the games room that had been specifically designed for him by Seto. Mokuba, guessing where they were headed, let out a yelp of excitement and raced after the two of them. It had been some time since he'd been able to play against anyone except for Jou, who often let him win, or Seto, who never let him win, or Tenno, who always just won, and he was looking forward to having a new challenger.

"That's him?" Seto spoke in a low voice meant for his cousin's ear alone as the two of them followed Yuugi, Jou, and Mokuba at a slower pace.

Tenno nodded. "That's him," he confirmed, his crimson eyes sparkling. "He was most reluctant to come along today. It was fortunate that I arrived at his family's game shop when his grandfather was around. I think he didn't want to risk turning me away in case his grandfather grew curious about why he didn't want to be around me."

"That sounds very like you," said Seto, grudgingly respectful of his cousin's methods. "Ever since you mentioned his name, Jou has been looking forward to seeing him again. I imagine that helped."

"It did. He was very receptive to the idea once I mentioned Jou's name." Tenno smirked.

Seto rolled his eyes. "Have you gotten any further in convincing him?"

"No," he admitted.

They arrived in the doorway of the games room and looked over the scene. Jou was sitting on the couch, nearly hysterical with laughter. Mokuba was staring with a dropped jaw at the television screen, which had the image of two fighting characters on the screen. One, tall and bulky with muscles, was unconscious on the ground and the other, short and slender, was dancing around in a circle. The timer in the corner was flashing a new record of twenty-three seconds. Yuugi wore a sheepish smile as he placed the controller he had been holding back on the ground.

"Sorry?" he offered meekly.

"No fair," Mokuba complained. He shook his head, managing to sound disgusted and admiring all at once. "You really are just like Yami. He beats me just as fast as you do."

"Oh really?" Violet eyes glanced up, capturing the crimson ones from across the room. Yuugi smiled slowly, recognizing the challenging glint that was being directed at him. A surge of excitement flashed through him at the thought of having found an opponent who might be able to give him an actual battle. At last, here was something that he did understand. "Care to show me how good you are?"

"With pleasure, Little One," purred Tenno, grinning broadly. "With pleasure."

GMA

The day was clear and bright, with not a cloud in the sky. Perfect for riding a motorcycle if you happened to be in the possession of one. Not so perfect if you were Malik, who couldn't help staring with open jealousy at the man who had just paused at the intersection in front of Domino Museum for a red light. He'd wanted a motorcycle for as long as he could remember, but Ishizu had put her foot down and refused to help him get one, saying that she didn't want to have any part in helping him "court death". Considering that she also insisted that he wait until he was out of school to get a job, that meant he was stuck in an endless and exasperating phase of motorcycle worship from afar.

He glanced once more in the direction of the motorcycle and found his eyes connecting with a set of dark, indigo-colored eyes. Yamada Mariku had flipped up the visor on his helmet while Malik wasn't looking, and now he winked in Malik's direction. Malik sputtered and quickly turned his back on the other man, feeling his cheeks flame. Laughter and the sound of a revving motorcycle followed him all the way up the stairs of the museum, and although he wanted to turn around and see if Mariku was still staring, he forced himself to open the door and walk inside without looking back.

The Domino City Museum was actually fairly large, with many exhibits. Ishizu's specialty was the Egyptian exhibit, as she had special contacts in Egypt that often gave the museum an edge, and her office was located near the back, so that she could keep an eye on the displays that were often lent in her name. She usually didn't like it when Malik came to visit her here, so for the most part, he made it a point to stay away. However, Ishizu appreciated it even less if more than a couple of days went by without her being able to see that he was physically healthy, so he figured a visit was worthwhile. He planned to stay for a few minutes and make sure that she was still in one piece and then head out for the day. Yuugi had told both he and Ryou that morning that they could stay the night again, and as soon as he swung by the apartment and picked up some clothes, he planned to head back to the Kame Game Shop.

A few people glanced up at him as he made his way back towards Ishizu's office, but no one challenged him. Malik knocked on her door and listened, waiting for her reply. When none came, he tried the knob and found that she'd left it unlocked, which meant that she couldn't have been too far away. Ishizu was known for locking her door whenever she wasn't around to keep snoopers out, so he didn't feel too badly about pushing the door open and strolling in. She had a fairly good sized office, with a comfortable couch along the right wall and a desk that was piled high with paperwork. He sat down in her chair and leaned back, noticing that she'd shut her computer down, and glanced at the papers on her desk. Once, she had made him promise that he would never look through her things, but he couldn't help it if she just happened to leave things out for him to see.

His eyebrows shot up when he spotted the rectangular box, half-hidden under a few files. Normally he would have left it alone, but he could just make out the name "Ishtar" written in unfamiliar handwriting across the top. Had someone sent her flowers? The box was the right shape, and it would be just like Ishizu to toss the box on her desk without tending to the flowers inside. Malik smirked and picked up the box, freeing it with a quick, careful tug. He was already thinking about how he would tease her when he realized two things. One, the box was rather light for flowers, and two, the name on top actually said "Malik Ishtar".

"Nee-san, what are you playing at?" he muttered, immediately prying the top off. It came off easily. Inside was a long, slender gold rod that ended in a sharp point, with a round, circular piece attached to the top. Two wings stuck out from either side of the orb, and the same eye symbol that decorated Yuugi's Millennium Puzzle had been stencilled onto the front. Malik stared down at the rod, mesmerized. It felt familiar, even though he was pretty sure that he'd never seen it before. The symbol, though, that rang a bell. He was almost positive that he recalled seeing it somewhere besides the Puzzle. But where?

"What are you doing in here?"

Malik jumped and lifted his head, staring at the man who was standing in the doorway. It was a testament to how dazed he felt that he hadn't even heard the man approaching. "This is my sister's office," he said blankly. "I'm here to see her."

The man frowned suspiciously, tugging at his black suit jacket. He had greying hair that fell into his eyes and a wide gray moustache. His eyes were small and beady. "Your sister is Isis?" he asked doubtfully. "I didn't know she had a brother."

"She does," Malik said. "Isis" was the name that Ishizu used when it came to the outside world. She had begun using the name in Egypt after they had been kicked out of the clan, and she'd continued when they came to Japan. As far as Malik knew, the only people who were aware that Isis and Ishizu were one and the same were Malik and his friends. Even their father wasn't aware. He knew that Ishizu didn't really want people to know that she had a sibling, and regretted saying anything at all. "I was going to meet her here, but now I see that she's not around, so I'll be going." He placed the lid back on the box and stood up.

"Hang on. What's that you've got in your hands?" the man demanded. His hand reached into the pocket of his black slacks and pulled out a sleek phone. "I don't think you're Isis-sama's brother at all. I think you came snooping around to steal something and you've been caught. I'm calling security."

Just as the man started to dial a number into his phone, Malik snapped into action. He bounded out from behind the desk and launched an easy kick at the man's knees that sent him sprawling to the floor with a pained yell. Malik leapt over him and raced down the hallway, ignoring the confused shouting that was going on behind him. It wasn't all that hard to get away; all he had to do was slow down once he was out in the main part of the museum, and he could walk right by the security personnel that were running towards the back offices. Carefully, he tucked the box underneath his arm and sauntered calmly out the front doors, knowing that once Ishizu heard about the mess he'd made, she'd want his hide.

"Oh, well. At least I got something out of it," he muttered, tapping his fingers on the box thoughtfully. What was the significance of the object inside? Who had written his name across the top of the box and why? Had Ishizu meant to give it to him, or had it been given to her so that she would pass it on? One thing was sure, she likely hadn't been expecting him to show up today, or for him to take it. Honestly, he hadn't consciously planned on removing it from her office, but he'd been acting without really thinking about it.

Knowing that Ishizu would probably go easier on him if he fessed up before she got to the museum and was fed a bunch of wild tales, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialled her number. Instead of her actually answering the phone, or the call going to voicemail like he'd hoped, it just rang endlessly. Malik groaned and ended the call with a roll of his eyes as he stepped off of the curb. Sometimes his sister could drive him crazy. He would never understand how she could see through him in an instant, but somehow couldn't remember to empty out her voicemail inbox for anything.

It began to rain as he neared his home, but Malik didn't mind. After years of living underground and never having the chance to experience things like rain or snow, he loved it. Ishizu had always called him crazy, and even Yuugi and Ryou thought he was a little strange, but he was used to that. After all, what fun was life if you were perfectly normal? He smirked to himself and picked up the pace as the light changed colors, sending a warning glare towards a man who was eyeing the box he was carrying just a little too closely. Normally, Malik wouldn't have minded having some fun with people who were stupid enough to think that they could steal from him, but in this case he wasn't inclined to risk the item in the box, even if he was certain that he wouldn't lose. Even though he had only come across the rod minutes before, he already felt that it was far too precious to risk having anything happen to it.

The apartment that his family shared was on a decent, middle class street thanks to Ishizu. They lived on the fifth floor of a seven-floor building that was well tended to, in an apartment that was big enough for each of them to have their own room, however small said rooms might be. However, even a three bedroom apartment wasn't big enough when his father started drinking. Sometimes Malik thought that his father had never been happy in his life, and that had only gotten worse since the clan had kicked them out. Now, Hafiz Ishtar spent his days drinking and doing a little "work" here and there. What exactly he did for work, Malik wasn't sure; unlike he and Ishizu, his father had never bothered to learn the skills necessary to adapt to life on the surface, and spent his days in a sensory overloaded haze that was dulled with the use of alcohol. Any money Hafiz earned was spent before Malik or Ishizu ever saw it.

Before he put his keys into the lock, Malik put his ear to the door and listened. If he had heard anything, he would've turned and left rather than spark a confrontation. It wasn't hard to borrow clothing from Ryou, even if his white-haired friend did have a poor sense of fashion. No sounds came from inside the apartment, however, and that plus the fact that it was broad daylight made him feel safe enough to unlock the door and push it open. He only realized his mistake when the strong scent of rice and chicken hit him in the face, and he looked up to see a tall, half-naked woman standing at the rarely used stove, poking at something with a spoon. She turned, looking startled, when he opened the door and promptly screamed.

"Who are you?" she shouted. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Malik began, looking away as she tried to tug her shirt down over her lower half. He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence, as he swallowed his words when he saw his father lumbering out of the hallway. Hafiz's light brown hair was a mess, and his deep blue eyes – a perfect match for Ishizu's – were wild. The strong scent of alcohol permeated the air as he stepped forward, moving in between Malik and the woman.

"What the fuck did you do?" he growled, glaring at Malik. "Fucking pervert. Did you try to touch her?"

Malik's eyes widened and he backed away a step, glancing at the door. Could he make it before his father got angry enough to attack him? "No!"

"Don't fucking lie to me!" Hafiz leapt at him, crashing into Malik with enough force to send both of them toppling over. Malik hit the ground with a cry and rolled over slowly, feeling a heavy pain in the back of his head as his father sprang to his feet, surprisingly nimble for someone who had been hitting the bottle. A groan of pain escaped Malik as a boot caught him just below the ribs.

"Stop! Stop! You're going to kill him. He didn't do anything. He just surprised me. Stop it!" The woman was screaming at Hafiz, but it wasn't doing any good. He was immune to her cries as he leaned over Malik, a crazed glint in his eyes, and kicked his son for a second time. Though he held no weapon, his fists were more than good enough; there was no doubt in Malik's mind that his father could – and would, if provoked – kill him with his hands alone.

Later, he would insist that's why he reached for the box, which had fallen from his hands when he hit the ground, even though he had never fought back against his father in his life. A weapon was what he wanted, not protection. The lid popped off at the slightest touch and the rod rolled out. Hafiz pulled back sharply when he saw it, and a strangled gasp leapt from his throat as his eyes darted from Malik to the rod. He started to lunge forward, hand outstretched to grab the rod, but Malik was closer and moved faster. His fingers curled around the solid stem first.

Heat bubbled up through the metal, running up Malik's arms. He cried out at the feeling of his fingertips burning and tried to drop the rod, but he found he couldn't let go. Hafiz, watching his struggle, began to laugh uproariously, clutching at his stomach for support. The woman shot them a confused, panicked look and ran out of the apartment without even bothering to find her panties or skirt. Just as she slammed the door behind them, a brilliant flash lit up the room. Malik shielded his eyes and tensed, knowing that his father would see this as the perfect chance to come at him and cause more damage when he couldn't see the blows coming. He waited for the beating to start, for the fists and feet to strike his already sore body, but it never happened. Slowly, half fearing what would happen if he dared to look, he opened his eyes.

Yamada Mariku was standing over him, holding his father by the throat.


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