There are no alliances, only exceptions.

Ryou stared at the ring, watching the metallic eye staring back. He sometimes wondered if Bakura could see through the golden eye on the plate of the ring, at times like this it felt like maybe he could. Ryou definitely felt watched right now, even with the cord of the ring hanging limply between his hands, rather than around his neck. His fingers stroked the thread; it was silkier than the one Marik had cut. It was smooth between his fingers, almost pleasant, which felt contradictory considering it was anything to do with the ring at all.

Anything to do with Bakura.

"I hate you," he whispered into the eye, hoping somehow Bakura could hear him, but that wish was short lived. If Bakura could hear him he would have to deal with his comeback or violent nature and Ryou just couldn't be bothered with either anymore.

With a sigh he pulled the cord over his head and let the ring lay neatly against his chest once more, the recently reopened scars on his chest stinging mildly underneath.

'You hate me? And here I was thinking you'd be appreciative after your blessed bath time.'

"Save it, Bakura," he folded his arms, now staring straight ahead at his bedroom door, "take control already," he was eager to be out of his own body, away from his own emotions.

'…What's wrong?' There was a moment of hesitance before the spirit spoke up again and when he did Ryou nearly laughed.

"You almost sound concerned," Ryou gave the door a bitter smile.

'Did you honestly learn nothing, after your last back-chat?'

Ryou tensed up slightly, his eyes widening, "is that what this was? Some kind of punishment for daring to speak back to you?"

'What the bloody hell are you on about, Landlord?'

"Malik!" Ryou exploded for the second time that day, "and you! You… you know what!" he clutched at his chest, the open cuts burning painfully, "I can understand this kind of torment! But why… why do you have to use my body in every single kind of way? It's not fair!"

Again the spirit remained quiet, hesitating to answer. Ryou kept glaring hatefully at the door in front of him, grasping at the aching wounds on his chest. He opened his mouth to continue shouting at the spirit but just as he did the world begun to blur.

"No...!" he gasped, his hand going from his chest to his head, "You won't push me out, not when I'm talking to you! You won't sto-…" Bakura huffed when he'd resumed control and took a moment to flatten down the crumpled t-shirt.

He walked towards the door that had been at the brunt of Ryou's changing temper, and opened it, walking into the lounge where he saw Malik, who was once again led upside down on the sofa, but this time the book he had apparently been reading was opened up and rested on his face.

"…The hell, Malik?"

The blond jumped and sat up, the book falling into his lap. He stared at Bakura and looked somewhat relieved, "where the hell have you been? Your host has been having an emotional break down or something equally as melodramatic,"

Bakura placed one hand on his hip and grabbed the ring in the other, staring at it in a similar way that his host had been moments before. "What did you do?"

Malik's mouth opened, agape. "What did I do? I just needed to use the fucking bathroom!" the blond protested and swivelled around so he was sat on the sofa normally, "he got all pissy when he saw all the..." he waved his hand near his neck, "y'know,"

Bakura blinked and dropped the ring, his hand darting to his neck. He looked momentarily shocked before dawning realisation crossed his face, "…damn it," he groaned and the hand on his neck trailed up to cover his face, "I knew we should have stopped when I said…"

Malik frowned, "about that, why did…" he hesitated, not sure how to phrase his own question, "why did you want to stop? Before either of us had even done anything,"

Bakura glared through the gaps between his fingers, "in case you're forgetting this isn't my body, Malik,"

The Egyptian let out an aggravated sigh and threw his hands in the air, "Oh but of course! It is your precious host's… can't dare mark or hurt the little cotton ball,"

Bakura snapped his hand away from his face, gritting his teeth, "fucking stop it already, I don't care about his well being! In fact it would make my life a hell of a lot easier if the damn sobbing teenage wasn't around!"

"Then get rid of him!"

There was a tense moment in the apartment after that, in which Bakura glared venomously and Malik reached up to cover his own mouth. It wasn't what the Egyptian had said that had caused them both to pause in their argument but rather the voice that had erupted from Malik's mouth hadn't been Malik's voice at all.

"If you two pathetic cowards don't want the boy, get rid of him," the voice continued on, behind Malik's hand, "Malik has thought about it; smothering the kid with his own pillow or dropping some pills in his morning tea~ neither of you want him around so kill the body and hope the thief's spirit is strong enough to cling on to a corpse!" the voice suddenly erupted into a fit of laughter, but despite the sick glee coming from his mouth, Malik's eyes looked far from amused, in fact he looked utterly distressed.

"Malik I thought you said everything with this was fine," Bakura continued to glare, not entirely sure which side of Malik's mind Bakura was most pissed off with.

"Oh~ Malik says a lot of things, doesn't he?" the voice continued on, "don't take offence, Thief, I'm pretty sure he doesn't know what is a lie and what isn't when it comes out of his own mouth. A mismatch of mind games and justifications all trying to hide how utterly weak he feels without the grasp of gold between his fingers—ggahhh nngg…shut up!"

"Malik"
Purple eyes swivelled up to meet Bakura's, a whirlwind of lavender fighting between distress and fury.
"What?" He growled between clenched teeth, moving from the sofa, still with an iron grip on his face and pulling tightly on his bangs.
"What do you mean what?" The spirit seethed back, "it's blatantly obvious tall, dark and scary is getting stronger, if he's able to take control at will-"
"It's not at will!" The blond was pacing up and down the lounge, "it's when I'm angry, so do me and favour... And stop pissing me off!"
Bakura clamped his mouth shut, his own anger bubbling as Malik spoke to him like an ignorant fool, but also realising it probably was best for him to keep quiet until the blond had significantly calmed down.
Eventually Malik fell back onto the sofa, cradling his own head like a mother cradles a new born. Silence stretched out for an uncomfortable while until Bakura, too, plopped himself onto the sofa.
"... I really thought he was gone," Malik mumbled only just loud enough for Bakura to hear.
"Well, he's not." Bakura pointed out the obvious, "so... What are you going to do?"
"Get rid of him again," Malik sat up straight, once again gaining his dignity and pride. His face turning back to its usual unreadable mask, no hint or trace of the near breakdown Bakura had witnessed.
"Well, that's the idea. But what's the plan?"
"I'm going to call my sister," Malik announced rather suddenly and moved from the sofa before the words had even had a chance to sink in.
"...what!?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ishizu felt that since first stepping onto the surface she had been living in a dream... Or nightmare, depending on the circumstances. Between Malik's running away, plans of world destruction, and chasing both her brother's all away around the world in a desperate attempt to stop them, well, that had most certainly a nightmare. Whereas meeting the Pharaoh, saving her siblings and returning to Egypt as a now highly regarded historian... This all felt like a dream. Of course things were never simple. Once again her life seemed dictated by her troublesome gender, and although the American and European museum sponsors regarded her with respect, there were still a lot of the Arabic leaders who remained sceptical. But she didn't let that stop her. She focused on her job, bouncing information and artefacts between Egypt and the large museums of the world. Her valued and unique knowledge of the Tombs in which she lived were held in high regard and Ishizu herself was beginning to win over more than a few of the board member respect.
"Ishizu," a voice called from the hallway and a small brunette popped her head around the corner of the door, "you have a phone call,"
Ishizu blinked and looked up from the scripts she had been going through in the large dusty archives.
"For me?" She asked, unsure, and the girl laughed a little at Ishizu's shock.
"Yep, for you," the girl, Taja, clarified, and Ishizu finally pulled herself from the floor, climbing over several boxes and followed Taja down the hall to one of the main offices where the phone was lay on its side, waiting for her.
"Hello?"
"Sister,"
Ishizu whipped around, as if she'd find her brother stood behind her, but she quickly regained her senses.
"Malik... Is everything ok?" Her emotions had gone from panic to excitement to confusion and back to panic in three seconds flat.
"Well enough," Malik did indeed sound 'well enough' so Ishizu had no real reason to remain concerned and yet she couldn't help but still feel jittery. Her brother had hardly called her once since he announced he would be staying in Domino.

Well… 'announced' was not really the word for it.

On the day of their flight to Cairo the youngest Ishtar had simply never gotten on the plane. Ishizu had been furious and terrified and if not for Rishid by her side she was sure she would have had a breakdown. But luckily as soon as they touched ground on the other side Malik had contacted her and told her Domino is where he needed to be. He couldn't go back to Eygpt, he was still trying to find his feet and avoid falling into another more figurative but just as restricting tomb. So… she let him.

He made her promise not to tell a soul, not even the Pharaoh, and although that did nothing to calm her warring nerves she had agreed, Rishid too. And ever since she had heard not a word from her brother, until now.

"Ishizu, I have an issue that I need your help with, is there anyone around you?"

Ishizu looked around the vacant office, the only person was Taja waiting in the doorframe, who Ishizu politely waved her hand at, for her to leave.

"No, no one at all. Is everything ok?"

"I am sure it's nothing, but, I've been staying with Ryou Bakura lately—"

"You've been staying with Bakura?"

"The host, yes, please do try not to interrupt Ishizu I don't know how much this call is costing. Anyway, he has been having some headaches recently, trouble with sleep, mood swings, among other few details. I think the spirit may be trying to make a comeback, is there anything you would suggest I do to assure that Ryou can protect himself?"

Ishizu hesitated, biting on her lip. She was torn between worry and relief. She was glad that it was not a personal affliction on her brother but she was not sure how she felt about him being alone with Ryou Bakura if the spirit did indeed make a come back. Eventually she sighed, wrapping her fingers in the coiled phone wire.

"there are a few meditation techniques you can try to clear his mind. You'll need a wax candle and… um, hold on, get a pen and paper," she instructed and waited while her brother rooted around for said items and then she finished off listing the items and the instruction he would need to follow, "that should be everything, do let me know how to goes. Ok, Malik?"

"I will, thank you sister," and with that he hung up, and Ishizu was left to untangle her hand from the curled up phone wire, while also trying to unravel her now tangled mind.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Malik, you just explained all the symptoms of a period.