This chapter is basically just a continuation of all the craziness that was going on last chapter! Hope you like it ladies and (oh who are we kidding ourselves) more ladies!

And damn guys! Of the eight volumes that take up the "ancient Egypt arch" we are barely, and I mean barely, into the end of the second volume. So naturally, because I'm making up all this storyline there are very little chapter titles to chose from. which is why this chapter title SUX

Btws, there is no supreme blow in this chapter. Though every time I look at this title I think that it has some thing to do with really awesome cocaine. I'm I allowed to say these things on ff . net? god this title sucks.


—()—()—()—()—()—()—

Chyaputa 9: The Supreme Blow

—()—()—()—()—()—()—


The Thief was mesmerized by Ryou/Bakura's screaming face, mixed emotions, mixed personalities. Truly, having two souls in one body was weak. How could the Thief ever be reduced to this?

This other, darker Malik squeezed the tip of the other Thousand Year Rod into Ryou/Bakura's flesh. "Come out, dear light personality," the psychotic cooed. "Come and play, sweetie."

The Thief felt his sex moving. Yes, he too would love to say those words to a screaming Ryou…

Then, too quickly, too willingly, Ryou's light naïve personality surfaced with a gasp, pale face shiny with sweat. His large brown eyes darted about the room and spotted the Thief in the doorway. But he did not cry out for help. And the Egyptian Thief almost moved to Ryou's rescue but for a flash of menace inside the boy's eyes. Something—someone—warned him to hold his ground. Was this other Malik that dangerous? Not dangerous enough for the Thief. No way.

"Yes. Now, now precious. Better, isn't it?" Yami no Malik giggled. His eyes rolled with excitement. "I don't like your other personality that much, you must understand. Conflict of interest, see? I'd rather look at your shining face."

Ryou's eyes jumped back onto the predator in front of him. "Wh-where's Malik? You're not supposed to be out during the day."

"Yes, yes, very convenient, isn't it? So easy for you all to keep track of us if I only take the body at night," Yami no Malik commented with excessive use of his tongue to form words. The blade of the Rod twisted about Ryou's neck as he spoke, turning from one vital artery to another. "But you see Main Personality really was upset last night and, let's say, his emotions flooded over the usual boundaries."

Ryou flinched. That motion disguised his arm falling to his side. And the Thief watched as that same arm, alien-like, as though it were not attached to the rest of the body, slithered into Ryou's pants pocket.

Yami no Malik noticed nothing but Ryou's defenseless neck. It was a very attractive neck, the Thief had to admit. "Main Personality feels so much. He always has. It's what makes him such a nice host…"

Ryou's jaw locked. "I'm sorry, Malik."

Yami no Malik was on the verge of a laugh but Ryou's alien arm thrust into the air, a tight fist as though he was going to punch the other Malik, but at that distance he would have never made it. Especially since this Malik was agile and as soon as he spotted the fist he scrambled backwards with a snarl, Rod bursting to light once again. The battle of shadow powers began anew.

Why didn't Ryou/Bakura use his Ring? Why didn't he fight back against the powers of the Thousand Year Rod? What had he gotten out of the pocket just then?

Ryou screamed, at his outstretched, uncontrollable arm, at Yami no Malik. Then the face morphed again and the other Ryou, the Thief's future self, took over the expression, the entire body… then.

The whole shack was alight with gold.

The Thief recognized that smell in the air, a compressed whistle sound, like water thrown on fire. He even predicted the explosion of shadow energy after that. When the Thief's vision cleared and his ears stopped popping, Ryou's body was on the floor, shivering.

And quivering over the pale boy was another equally pale double, bent over in weakness like a weak-thing that had not yet learned to stand.

Yami no Malik was bewildered, his pale pupil-less eyes round with astonishment. Two Ryous? Or was it two Bakuras? Or… was it…?

The other Malik croaked, "How…"

"Thief," Ryou's double snapped, still weakened from his newly born body. "If you wouldn't mind…"

The Thief didn't think. He snatched a dagger from the inside of his coat, closed the distance between him and this other Malik and knocked the tricky boy unconsciousness with the blunt end of his weapon.

Ryou's double—but the Thief knew who it really was—dove for his unconscious host. "Yadonushi." He grabbed Ryou's sleeping head in both hands and shook him. "Yadonushi!"

"What—" the Thief growled as he dropped Malik's limp body on the ground, "—in Osiris' Hell is going on? How did you get a body?"

"It's not a real body, it's only an illusion. You don't recognize the ritual?" the Thief's future self said, still shaking Ryou's shoulders. He was straddling the boy to wake him… the Thief thought that was a little excessive. "You've experienced it yourself when your dear Diaboundo was created."

The Thief paused. It wasn't possible. The priest's ritual for extracting Ka, for making soul-monsters? Yes, Diaboundo and all soul-monsters were created in that way. "I think you're missing some Items to complete your ritual—" Gold flashed from the floor. A ball of gold rolled out from Ryou's limp hand. Bakura snatched it up from the dirt but not before the Thief recognized the Pharaoh's Eye on its surface.

"You have the Thousand Year Eye?" the Thief said, incredulous.

Bakura put the Item away, not looking at the thief. "Now you know your next target, I imagine."

No wonder the Thief had been unable to over power his future self down at the river. He had two Items all along. "Do you have the Key as well?"

"No," Bakura said still attempting to wake his host body. "Why do you think I am in this form rather than a soul-monster? The Key shapes the soul, Eye extracts it…"

"And the Rod severs it from the body," the thief concluded. "Are you severed from your precious host now?"

Bakura paused. "Yes. I am still tied to the Ring. Those bonds cannot be undone."

And that Ring was still around Ryou's neck. If the Thief could get that Item now and throw it away, his future self would be gone forever. Sounded like a great plan.

"Yadonushi!" Bakura hissed, but Ryou did not wake. "He doesn't know how to come out. If someone doesn't control the body soon it will lose oxygen."

The Thief didn't understand, and didn't care too. He was too fixated on how Bakura's body leaned over Ryou's. Malik had said Bakura loved his host…

Bakura's eyes were trained on Ryou's lifeless face. "Your knife, thief."

"What?" What was he going to do? Cut Ryou's consciousness out of him?

"Your knife!" Bakura snarled, urgent. As if Ryou were in real danger… The Thief tossed his weapon and Bakura caught it without looking. He pulled up Ryou's sleeve and, without hesitation, cut the boy's shoulder in one swift stroke, as though carving meat. Dark blood escaped from Ryou's pasty flesh.

Blood never looked so elegant. Nor smell so potent.

Ryou flinched into life with a yelp. And with a large gulp of air, his opposite hand jumped to his bloody shoulder… and in the process smeared fresh blood over Bakura's fingers.

The Thief watched Ryou's brown eyes pop.

Bakura was still. So cautiously, so cleverly not looking his ex-host in the face as he got off of his lap. "Lock Malik up."

"You give orders now?" the Thief snarled. Like Hell he would obey this… this… now solid…

"Unless you want his other personality to murder us in our sleep," Bakura said, still so motionless. "Use the chains."

How did Bakura know the Thief had chains? Had he seen this situation too? Planned the whole thing? Did he know this other Malik would try to kill him and then use him to extract himself from his host? The old spirit was cunning.

If the Thief left to lock Malik up, he would have to leave Bakura and Ryou alone. Could he avoid it? Not for long. Not as long as Bakura had a new body. The Thief slung Malik's unconscious self across his shoulder and carried him into the next room.

But the Thief noticed before he left, how tight Ryou was squeezing Bakura's now solid forearm.

And as Malik's flawless wrists were enclosed by shackles, the Thief heard through the stick walls…

"I…" a pause, not a sound of movement, not even a rustle of clothing. "I can't hear you… in my mind."

The Thief froze, ears posed, but there was no audible response.

—()—()—()—()—()—()—

Seth brandished his Rod at the demon imposter that stood in the Pharaoh's bedroom.

But though his magic was swift and would have certainly subdued the monster, the shadow magic reflected harmlessly off of the shape-changer. What kind of magic could effect the holy Thousand Year Items? Except… the Thousand Year Puzzle was still hanging so conspicuously from the boy's neck. How had he stolen it from the Pharaoh? And why did the Puzzle choose to protect this demon who was not its true master?

In Seth's confusion, the demon boy ducked on his pale, foreign legs, and slipped past the priest at a panicked dash.

The shape-changer would not get far. Seth found the minds of several soldiers around the corner, hooked their motor functions with this Rod and tugged the guards away from their posts, convening at the end of the hallway. The boy crashed into their waiting capture within seconds.

Seth maintained his steady walking pace throughout the entire capture.

The boy-demon screamed as the guards restrained him. "You don't understand! Please! You don't understand!" it pleaded in rather actuate Egyptian. It had also spoke Egyptian the day it had tried killed Seth during the Ka practice too.

Seth reached the party, and he thrust the head of the Rod under the boy-demon's chin. "Time to fix this little miscalculation. The Pharaoh has been keeping too many secrets from his people."

Seth did not deny that he took savage pleasure in dragging the shape-changer into the Throne Hall, in front of all the nobles, courtiers, and councilors, in front of all the other priests and the Pharaoh's high mighty chair.

Predictably, the King of Egypt leapt off his royal platform, a breech of centuries of traditions, to rescue his little "harem" sweetheart.

"Release him at once!" the Pharaoh roared, face colored with the dishonor. "Pharaoh says, release him!"

The guards, fearful of their lives, shoved the boy-demon out of their grasp. And the "boy" stumbled into his Pharaoh's hold, shivering.

Seth noticed that the Pharaoh was not without his Thousand Year Item, which, in total, made two Puzzles. Impossible. One must have been a fake.

"Seth! What is the meaning of—" But Akhenaden was struck speechless when he too spotted the boy for himself, unmasked. He would understand the implications of this complication too well.

Seth stood his ground. "A thousand apologies." He could feel the glow of righteousness about him. Justice of the truest kind, even the Pharaoh had to bow to it. "But I found this thief in your very chambers."

The Pharaoh held the demon-boy to his body. Tightly. Seth noticed. "He is no thief!"

"Is he not? How then does he possess an exact imitation of your Puzzle, my Pharaoh?" Seth remarked, proud of his calm composer.

Their audience was very concerned about this point as well. The courtiers and council members pressed their King in a wave of loud voices. The second Thousand Year Puzzle had a prominent effect on the priests as well. They were not pleased.

The Pharaoh only had eyes for his charge, unfortunately.

"I'm sorry," the "harem" kid said in a hushed tone. "I'm so so so sorry."

The Pharaoh, tenderly, held the demon against his body. "It's ok. I'll fix this, Yugi. Don't worry."

It was such an intimate conversation, usually the King and his harem would switch to their private language when they were talking to each other. Why were they still speaking in Egyptian? Or… were they?

"He just burst in— I couldn't—" the Yugi-child gasped. "Gomen. Gomen—"

Seth fought for his composure. They were speaking in their hidden language. The only difference was now Seth could understand their foreign words. But how? 'The yellow-haired prisoner,' Seth realized. 'He speaks the same tongue as the shape-changer. The Pharaoh must have learned it from him.'

This was a valuable piece of evidence.

"Enough!" the Pharaoh commanded, finally addressing his audience in the Throne Hall. "I will explain all in due time. First I must gather my priests." The councilors protested angrily, standing from their comfortably seating. "This is the will of the Pharaoh!" their King ordered.

That phrase was used far too often these days.

The priests did as they were told and filed into a side chamber. The shape-changer clung to the King's mighty robes, under the Pharaoh's arm. The priests, what was left of them, Akhenaden, Shaada, Kalim all grave. Isis remained impassive. They gathered awkwardly, all eyes on the pale-skinned boy.

"What is the meaning of this, my Pharaoh?" Shaada demanded. "What is this boy—?"

"He has another Thousand Year Puzzle—?" Kalim interjected.

"We need answers," Akhenaden was far more panicked than he behaved; after years of being his pupil, Seth could tell.

Pharaoh raised his free hand to call for silence. And he got it, because he was, at the moment still, the King of Egypt. "This is Yugi.

The boy-demon bowed awkwardly. None of the priests' severe expressions softened. Seth was proud of them.

"Yugi is a prophet," the Pharaoh continued, "He foresaw the death of Mahaado," the Pharaoh explained. "He knew Bakura's target of the Ring, which is why—" their king cleared his throat. A moment of weakness, Seth noted. "I attempted to confine Mahaado to the palace, though my plan could not hold up to the priest's stubbornness, in the end."

Isis' blue eyes were trained on the foreign boy-demon.

Shaada could not hold back any longer. "Why have we not heard of him before then? Why did he wear a mask in our presence? And why does he hold a copy of your own Item?"

"I…" the shape-changer hesitated, his thin hands holding his own Thousand Year Puzzle. He glanced at the Pharaoh who gave him an encouraging nod. The boy breathed and then turned back to the priests. "I've had this Item ever since I was young, and my grandfather found it—"

"Your grandfather—?"

"Impossible!" Akhenaden proclaimed.

"Let him speak!" the Pharaoh ordered. The priests reluctantly shut their mouths but were far from satisfied.

Yugi breathed again. "My Puzzle and the Pharaoh's come from the same power. We are connected." His childish fingers traced the edges of his paradoxical golden Item. "Our power is the same. We have the same Puzzle just…"

Outcrys from the priests.

"And you used that Puzzle to attack Seth during a practice!" Kalim claimed.

Seth felt immense satisfaction seeing horror engulf the boy-demon's expression. "I—that—that was an accident!" Yugi's eyes flashed to Seth and then shamefully lowered to the floor. "I didn't know he was in danger…"

"Blasphemy! This is madness!" Shaada shouted.

"Are we to believe that there are two equally powerful Thousand Year Puzzles?" Kalim agreed. "That cannot be."

Yugi bowed his head, backing up to stand with the Pharaoh again.

Akhenaden would not accept this. It was why Seth respected him so much. He would bring reason into this chaos, into the Pharaoh's corruption. "If what this youth says is true," the old priest stepped forward, in front of the Pharaoh. "If what he holds truly is a second Puzzle, in equal power to your own, does that mean he has the same authority as you, my Pharaoh?"

"No!" the boy, Yugi, spoke. But it was out of turn and the Pharaoh punished his impertinence with a look.

"Kore o makasete kudasai, Yugi," the King of Egypt told the boy in their secret language again. Seth could now recognize the change in their tongues.

Yugi lowered his eyes, obeying the King.

The Pharaoh returned his attention to his servants, smoothly and with confidence. "Yugi and his Item were sent by the gods to aid us in this war."

"War? Against who?" Kalim demanded.

"Bakura?" Shaada questioned.

"Of course," their King answered.

The priests hesitated. The Pharaoh was the voice of the gods on earth. Was it fair for a leader to have so much power over his subordinates? Seth wondered. But there was still more to be revealed.

"I guarantee you, my most trusted priests," the King promised, placing a confident hand on his boy-slut. "Yugi offers only help to the Kingdom."

Seth could keep silent no longer. "And what about this boy's magic?"

A chill reverberated off the cold flawless stone walls of the private chamber. It stunk into the priests and even into the Pharaoh's arrogant disposition. Even into the boy's large eyes.

"To what are referring, Seth?" the Pharaoh questioned.

It was as Seth predicted; the King of Egypt did not know of his harem-boy's little secret. "When I discovered your prophet in the Pharaoh's royal chamber, I saw not this boy but another."

Yugi trembled. Yes, Seth had discovered something very secret.

"It was as though this boy could change his shape."

The boy grabbed his Pharaoh's arm at the elbow. "Pharaoh—"

But the King of Egypt's eyes were hooked on Seth's.

It had been so long since the Pharaoh had looked at Seth with this much intensity. Not since he had been the Crowned Prince and Seth a newly made priest…

"Instead of this boy," Seth continued, lavishing in his control over the adolescent king. "His body was in a form identical to yours, My Pharaoh. Even more so than his current appearance. As though he were trying to impersonate you and thereby take your authority—"

"It's not true!" Yugi cried.

The Pharaoh tore himself out of Seth's control and grabbed his boy-slut by the shoulders. "Nani o okurimashitaka, Yugi?" The King had switched to the secret language; only Seth among the priests could understand their exchange. "What is my priest talking about?"

"I can explain," Yugi blurted, panicked.

"Explain?" Above the refreshed shouts from the priests, the Pharaoh's voice went shrill. "To explain would mean there were some truth to these words? Is there Yugi?"

The boy trembled.

"Is there?" the Pharaoh cried. Even the priests recognized the horror in their King's voice. It was clear to them, though they could not understand his words, that something had gone amiss.

At last. Seth allowed himself to grin.

Yugi swallowed. "Please, I will explain."

"You said you had told me everything," the Pharaoh said. His look had turned soft. Vulnerable. Weak. The very qualities a King should not have.

"Please," Yugi tugged on the King's robes. "Please, I'll explain. I promise—"

The King ripped his arm from Yugi's hold. "What good is your word?" His godly shoulders shook. What was it? Anger? No, Seth guessed. Fear. He had finally been undermined. "You forget, I am King, Yugi. These men, my most trusted men, count on my and my word as authority. If what I am saying is incorrect, you must tell me." His voiced weakened. "Why did you not tell me, Yugi?" The Pharaoh's words were the sentiments of a whiny child.

Yugi gained some of the Pharaoh's lost determinism. "He asked me not to."

The Pharaoh recoiled.

Yugi's expressed turned to pity. "Soshite, kare ga daisuki kara…"

And the Pharaoh, without the dismissal of his priests or an exiting remark, broke from the chamber, crimson cloak catching on the stone columns. Yugi scrambled after the Pharaoh, desperate.

The priests were left without acknowledgement, or respect.

The Kingdom's foundations were truly rumbling.

—()—()—()—()—()—()—

"Yeah… so… Sorry about that, guys," Malik laughed, nervously.

"Sorry?"

Malik just grinned uneasily as Dorobo yelled at him. He couldn't really do anything about it… now that he was all chained up anyway.

"You nearly killed pale-face," Dorobo snarled jabbing his thumb at Ryou.

Ryou blinked. It hadn't been so bad. At the time anyway… the results of the confrontation though… were still unfortunate.

"I'm really really sorry, Ryou-kun!" Malik whined. "You know I am. Tell the thief, really, I can't control what he does or when he chooses to come out!"

"It's true," Ryou said, fiddling with the tight bandages on his upper arm. The spirit of the Ring had cut him to get Ryou out of his locked soulroom…

"Didn't come to rescue, did ya? Not even a warning."

"Look," Malik rolled his eyes. "I'm… mine's not like Bakura—or how Bakura used to be, I suppose—"

Ryou flinched.

"He's not from the Item. He's from me, ok? He came from me. I'm the crazy one. He knows what I know, sees what I see and I can't shut him out—"

"He feels what Malik feels." Ryou found the words too easily. "He is made of Malik's strongest emotions. So when Malik saw Dorobo-san and me down at the beach, Malik's feelings exploded beyond his control and the other Malik was allowed to take control, even though it wasn't nighttime."

There was silence. Ryou looked up to find both the chained Malik's and Dorobo's attentions locked onto him.

Ryou's face burned with shame. "I'm sorry," he squeaked, gripping his forearms. "I'm sorry, I can't believe I said that out loud. God—Malik—I—"

Malik, a little less energetic, shrugged. "It's ok, Ryou."

But Ryou felt himself leave the room, not that he could walk very far in the shack. He found his papyrus mat and lay down upon it. Maybe he could sleep. Maybe then he wouldn't notice how empty his thoughts were. How silent his mind was…

"What's with him?" Dorobo demanded, not subtly. Although Ryou was out of view, he was still very much within earshot.

Malik made an exasperated sigh. "Obviously, he's not doing so well now that there's only one soul in his mind. Ryou doesn't like quiet."

"That's not true," Ryou said, out loud. Again. He didn't know if Malik heard. "God—stop it," he told himself.

Ryou bit the inside of his cheek. It didn't help.

"Hey." The large form of Dorobo was looming above him.

"Dorobo-san," Ryou greeted evenly, his cheek squashed against his papyrus mat. "I don't really know how to help you at the moment…"

"I'm not the one that needs help, crazy."

Ryou gave in and sat up. "I'm not crazy."

Dorobo sat down on the dirt floor.

"You know your waist cloth doesn't cover much," Ryou said, keeping his eyes perfectly level.

Dorobo grinned. "It's not supposed to."

Ryou made no face. "You don't wear your head clothe anymore."

"I told you, it's a Klaft," Dorobo sneered. "Can't you remember anything?"

"You used to wear it all the time."

"Yeah," Dorobo's lidded eyes were not amused. "And now I don't."

"Is it because you're identifying more with mou hitori no boku?" But wait. That named didn't really fit anymore. The spirit of the Ring wasn't in Ryou's head anymore after all.

"Would you give me a chance to speak or would you like to answer every question by yourself?"

Ryou bowed his head.

"You're talking too much," Dorobo said.

"You think so too?" Ryou mused, picking at the dirt floor with his fingers. "Wonder why that is…"

"Probably because the only way for him to know what you're thinking now is if he hears you say so out loud."

Ryou pursed his lips.

Dorobo scoffed. "How pathetic. And I used to think you were so collected."

Ryou shrugged. Suddenly, he didn't feel like talking anymore.

The thief frowned, squaring his broad shoulders. His white mess of hair splayed freely all around his head. "Words don't really work, do they?"

Ryou fought himself. "No."

Dorobo rolled his head on his neck. "Yeah." Then he leaned over the dirt floor and started pick up scraps of clothing, rocks, twigs, as though clearing a space. "Here." He drew a grid, three by ten squares long, in the loose dirt between Ryou and himself.

Ryou uncurled his body from its protective ball. "What are you doing?"

"It's called Senet. You do still have all your smarts, right?" Dorobo snapped as he divided up his objects. Ryou got a series of sticks and scraps of stale food. Dorobo had rocks, string, and broken clay pieces. Seven pieces each. Dorobo lined up the "game pieces" and opposite sides of the "board".

"A game…" Ryou said.

"Yeah." The thief was annoyed

But Ryou felt himself relax. "I love games."

"Good for you."

Ryou scooted closer to the board. "I used to play them with Yugi all the time…"

Dorobo's fingers fumbled and he had to redraw one of his lines. "The Pharaoh's copy?"

Ryou nodded. "We're friends."

"Not anymore," the thief scoffed.

Ryou didn't argue. He listened attentively as Dorobo grunted the rules of Senet. "Some priests use this game for rituals, the fools. Say that it symbolizes the struggle between good and evil forces." He snorted. "Cause my pieces will be trying to get to the Kingdom of Osiris and your 'evil' pieces are supposed to stop me. Whoever gets resurrected first wins."

Ryou shrugged. "Microcosm, macrocosm."

Dorobo's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Nothing," Ryou dismissed and prodded a corner of stale bread into another dirt square.

As the game progressed, it turned out that Dorobo was just as clever as his future self. Ryou was losing but that didn't matter so much.

"You're cheering me up," Ryou said, cause he couldn't stop his mouth.

Dorobo spat over his shoulder. "Completely accidental, I assure you."

"Liar," Ryou said, twirling a stick piece between his fingers as he pondered where to go next.

Now the thief was annoyed. "What about you then? What about you and your fear of silence?"

Ryou shrugged. "Not nearly as embarrassing."

"And your love of your other personality?"

Now Ryou's skin flushed with uncomfortable warmth. "Malik told you that."

"Useful one, that Malik," Dorobo sneered with a wicked grin. "How did that work out for you two? Before he got his own body, I mean."

Ryou said nothing but reinforced his attention on the game.

"You couldn't touch, couldn't do nothing useful. Pretty lame situation if you ask me." Again with that devilish flash of teeth. Ryou was not deceived. He could still remember Dorobo jumping him on that lake bed…

"There is a metaphysical space in our consciousness where mental projections of ourselves have the ability to interact." Not that a situation like that had even happened between Ryou and the Ring's spirit, but Ryou didn't feel like mentioning this.

There was a pause. Was Dorobo reforming his argument, selecting another angle of attack? What was his goal in this conversation? "And how's the sexing for 'mental projections'?" the thief asked.

Going right to the point. Was he frustrated? Ryou ran a hand through his thick hair but did not look up. "It doesn't work like that."

"But sexing isn't impossible," Dorobo continued.

Ryou breathed. "I don't know.

"You've never tried?" Dorobo accused, rather suddenly. "Does he love you or not?"

Ryou knew they were never going to get back to the game now. Where was the spirit of the Ring right now anyway? He had disappeared the moment after putting Ryou to bed the day before. Without saying a word… "I can't speak for anyone but myself."

Eyes still lowered, Ryou saw the thief's muscles tense. "Cut the crap. Are you just pining after him or have you two sexed?"

Ryou couldn't say. So he didn't say anything at all.

"Got off on each other?"

Again Ryou was silence.

Dorobo was the one getting flustered now. "Kissed? Once?"

Again, silence.

"Have you done anything with him?"

Ryou's mouth remained tight and closed.

Dorobo's breath was getting hot, thinker than the already scorching desert air. "If you two couldn't touch, before yesterday, how is it that you get hot whenever you think of him? What is it about a metaphysical voice gets you excited?"

After a beat, "He's just so... cool." Were the only words Ryou could think even came close to describing it.

"Cool?" Dorobo had had enough.

Ryou nodded. He was. The spirit of the Ring was the epitome of cool.

But apparently Dorobo didn't like that answer. Cause he threw himself forward, destroying the game in the dirt. He was leaning right over Ryou… very, very close. Ryou had to lean back to keep their bodies from touching.

"You must be glad now then," Dorobo's face was in his now, there was no avoid his powerful expressions. "You've each got your own bodies. You two must love that. Ready to test your affections in physical world?"

Ryou tried to pulled his body back, but Dorobo was closing in at a faster speed. "I don't know."

"Come now," and Dorobo's voice had turned silky, eyes penetrating. "Wouldn't you love to feel him? All of him?"

The muscles in Ryou's arm, the ones that were preventing him from collapsing backwards on his ass, were trembling. "Why are you so interested?"

The thief grinned. "I'm only trying to understand my future self's motives. Why he does what he does would be beneficial to me, don't you think?"

Ryou doubted that was what was really going on.

With a snicker, Dorobo pulled himself forward, bringing their bodies closer and towering over the boy. "Could you help me investigate my future inclinations?"

Ryou quivered like a tree. He didn't know what to do anymore. He had not seen, or heard, or sensed the spirit of the Ring since the day before. Where was he now? Far away? Out of reach? Ryou was a horrible mess of fear.

"You're not talking so much now?" Dorobo cooed as he seated himself between Ryou's sprawled legs. He was lowering himself, bringing their faces together.

"Malik's—" Ryou gasped, still leaning back, away.

"Chained up." The thief took Ryou by the front of his shirt and tugged him closer. His young Egyptian eyes burned. Not like what Ryou had glimpsed of his Yami's. Those were black. Dorobo's were fiery violet.

Ryou struggled, futilely, against Dorobo's grip on his shirt. "Why?"

The thief chuckled and his breath was poisonous. "Why what?"

"Why do you keep doing this?"

Dorobo's gleeful look dimmed, but that was merely the trigger. And he swallowed Ryou's breath and voice with a smothering kiss. Ryou struggled but the thief's mouth was kinda… hot. And Dorobo's own body rippled against Ryou's, the thief king's solid muscular form pulling the boy in. Still Ryou fought. But when he ripped his mouth away from Dorobo, the thief grabbed the boy's head with a single hand and consumed him once again. He was strong. So strong he brought Ryou to the ground and even though Ryou squirmed to get away, Dorobo got himself on top, straddling the boy.

Ryou panted, his hair mixing with the sandy floor. "Please stop."

Dorobo barked a harsh laugh. "Come, pale-face. You love this." And then he bent down to ravish Ryou's neck with teeth, and grope under Ryou's t-shirt.

"Please," Ryou repeated, jaw tensing. His throat was burning. "I don't want this."

"You're lying," Dorobo growled, moving his mouth south, his hands…

Ryou gasped because he couldn't breathe. An enormous pressure was building up in his brain. "I'm not lying."

There must have been something different in Ryou's voice, because Dorobo actually looked up from his progress. His eyes changed when he looked at Ryou's face.

He got mad.

"You're lying."

The burning in Ryou's throat had taken over his whole skull. "I'm not."

Dorobo snarled. "What the—?" And he punched the ground next to Ryou's head. "This is what you want. You fucking love him. Well, I'm him. So shut your disgusting mouth!" Dorobo was full of rage; he was shivering with it.

Soundlessly, because his throat was swollen, Ryou shook his head.

"You lie! You fucking— " Dorobo roared. His face was red. His breath was raw. "Stop crying!"

Ryou was startled. He had to actually touch his face to find the tears. So he was… Ryou hadn't cried in a really long time. Not since… the night when he and the Ring spirit had first met…

"Stop crying." This time it was an order. Dorobo was not giving up. "You're not fooling anyone." He barred his white teeth, his massive body still crouching on top of Ryou. "I'll show you." And the thief King grabbed for Ryou's pants, frantic, possessive.

Ryou struggled, pushing the thief's hands away, but it was only a matter of time. In his head, Ryou was screaming. If his thoughts were loud enough the spirit would hear, right? He would come out and save him like all the other times. Then why wasn't he here now?

'Maybe.' Panic struck. 'Maybe he really can't hear me anymore.'

Desperate, Ryou wriggled just free enough to work his hand to his shirt, getting a grip on the Sennen Ring and squeezing it with all his might. "Stop!" Ryou screamed, so loud that his throat ripped. "STOP!"

Finally, a flash of golden light.

Ryou had never seen it outside of his mind before.

The Ring on Ryou's chest glowed hot. A pulse of shadow magic from its center shot outwards, throwing Dorobo off Ryou and slamming into the unstable wall of the shack.

Ryou was paralyzed, just as he had been the first time he had seen the spirit of the Ring in his own physical form. Because… it wasn't really supposed to be possible. Looking just at the spirit's body… it was like looking at a picture of himself. Only the face was different, and so, so cool.

Dorobo, hair in a white fury, kicked the ground and got to his feet, seething with anger. "What now, future self?" the thief King spat. "You going to take over for me?"

The spirit of the Ring's expression was stony. "Yadonushi."

Ryou's heart jumped. His Yami was talking to him. Talking… directly to him. "Yes."

"Go to Malik," the spirit instructed.

And his words were so absolute Ryou had to follow. The boy got to his clumsy feet and blindly went to Malik, not looking back.

Malik greeted him with a warm smile at least. "Hey." But when Ryou sat down, "You, ah… sure you should be sitting so close to me?"

Ryou blinked. "Why not?"

Malik rolled his eyes. "Well, there's that whole half of my personality who, I'm sure, would love to split your pretty self open."

Ryou shrugged. "Honestly, I don't mind the risk."

Malik seemed shocked. "Really? Cause I could seriously turn at any second."

"I don't think he's too interested in me anyway."

"Ryou, dear," Malik said practically as he patted the boy's fluffy white hair as best he could with restrained hands. "You should have realized by now, everyone in this crazy house is interested in you."

"Even you?" Ryou asked, curious.

Malik opened his mouth, thought about this, then closed it again. "Are you offering?"

Ryou sighed. "I'm tired, Malik." He rested his head on his Egyptian friend's shoulder. "If you are going to molest me, try not to wake me."

Malik giggled. "Will do. Though how you'll sleep through their shouting, I don't know."

Ryou shrugged. He didn't care what Dorobo and the spirit of the Ring were saying to each other. Just the fact that his Yami had come out to save him… and had spoke to him…

"Yadonushi… Go to Malik."

"Yadonushi…"

Ryou slept peacefully.


—()—()—()—()—()—()—


"Kore o makasete kudasai" – please leave this to me (the Pharaoh to Yugi)

"Nani o okurimashitaka?"- what happened? (Pharaoh asks Yugi after Seth's accusation)

"Soshite, kare ga daisuki kara" – And I love him. (Yugi says referring to Yami)

(please correct me if any of this is wrong)

I don't know why I put a lot of Japanese in this chapter but the language was important for PLOT. (or that's what I told myself anyway) I hope it wasn't too confusing! For those of you that know about the language already, which might be some of you, um, I wasn't sure whether to put aishiteru or daisuki. I figured that as a true Japanese person, Yugi would be to embarrassed to use aishiteru. Daisuki works just as well. Though it is the same phrase that Yugi uses was he says "I love you" to Jounouchi when Malik's possessing him. So… yeah. Whatever that means.

Yay! It's the return of insane Ryou! I almost buried him forever in Contamination, but I like to pull him out every once in a while in times of great stress. Haha!

That, my children, that, what Thief King almost did, is called rape, btws. Don't let that happen.

REVIEW! And I'll buy you all three dozen cakes… each. Only you won't know that they are from me and you will all get them over a series of years from various people who will tell you that they bought them for you themselves. (this is a lie, all the cakes you will ever receive ever will be from me (unless of course you don't REVIEW in that case you're cake-fucked)) so REVIEW!

As always Psychotic Tendencies got me. and every time she has to remind me to update I must mention how wonderful she is in my Authors Notes. YAY!

REVIEW!