She smiled a little bit, taking his hand before leading him out. She opened the door to the expansive basement, walking down with him for what seemed like miles of stairs.

"My heart goes out to you, having to climb all these stairs all the time." He whispered.

Mrs. Sohma just smiled, shaking her head. "Well, that will be your job now."

"Yes, ma'am," Mokuba nodded eagerly, more than ready to help. She turned ahead, opening the door at the bottom of the stairs.

The stench was near unbearable; he saw her whole body tense and her nose wrinkle at it. The room was dark, save for the roaring fire of the closed oven. Blood ran everywhere, meat hooks, cleavers and other tools of the trade hanging from the walls. The dark-haired boy shuddered a little.

"Wow, it's really bad in here, huh?" He asked in a low voice. Mrs. Sohma nodded, motioning to the grate.

"Those grates go straight into the sewers, so the smell comes up from there, with all the dead rats and all." She made a small sound of disgust. He looked up at her, his eyes shining.

"Where do I start?"

"Here," She led him over to the far wall, "This is the bake-oven. You always put in ten dozen pies at a time and make sure the door is shut properly like this." She pointed to how it was closed.

"Ten dozen pies…closed properly, got it," He nodded. She smiled a little at how fast he was learning, walking over to the meat-grinder.

"This one's fairly straightforward. Just pop the meat in, give it a good grind and it comes out here."

"Put the meat in, grind, and the meat comes out here." Mokuba nodded again.

"…that's my boy." Mrs. Sohma whispered, kissing the top of his head, "I have to run upstairs for a little bit, I'll be back in a flash." She turned, starting towards the steps.

"Mrs. Sohma," He asked in a quiet voice, "Do you think…I could have a pie while I wait?" Mokuba stood next to the rack of cooling pies.

"As many as you like, Mokuba…" She whispered to him, "…have as many as you like."

She walked out, closing the door behind her, before latching it. She walked up the steps, her arms wrapped around her waist. A soft sob escaped her as she closed the door of the basement.

The screams were horrible, Marik almost tempted to cover his ears to block out the sound. But, dressed as a wigmaker with some experience, he couldn't. He had to appear calm, cool and collected. The owner of the asylum had already proven to be a dark man, taking no shortcuts in putting his patients in their place. He was walking beside the blonde, looking at the doors.

"…yes, sir, I believe it might be to our mutual interest for you do something about my children's hair." He moved over to one of the cells, unlocking it, "This is where I keep the redheads…you did say you wanted strawberry, yes?"

Marik nodded mutely. As they stepped in, all of the women scurried back, shades of red hair flying past him. They were obviously terrified of the man who came at them with the scissors. Marik looked them over, before his eyes came to a figure in the shadows. She was crouched like an animal, dressed in dirty straightjacket. As the owner came at her with the scissors, her violet eyes narrowed and her face contorted into a snarl. Marik could hardly believe that this was the same young woman who had begged for escape.

He pointed a shaky hand at Takara. "There, that's the shade I need."

"Right, then," The other man grabbed her arm, forcibly dragging her over towards him. Takara dug her heels in, snarling and fighting him as best she could. Her violet eyes turned fuchsia, starting to border on gold. The man shook his head. "Hopelessly deranged – poor thing's convinced she's a wild animal." He tilted Takara's head up to Marik, "Come, little one…smile a little, and you shall have a sweetie."

"I don't need a-" Takara's voice trailed off as she looked at Marik's face a moment, before turning on the man holding her again, "I don't need a sweetie!" She snarled, snapping at his hand. Her head turned with the slap the man gave her, Marik tensing for one horrible moment as he stared at the red mark on his beloved's pale white skin.

"Now, where shall I cut?" The man asked, as if nothing had happened. The next move seemed to be a blur.

Marik had pulled out a revolver, pointing it at the owner, pulling Takara to his side. He pushed the owner back into the cell, stepping out with his young beloved before kicking the door shut. "Not a word, sir, or it will be your last. I leave you now to the mercy of your 'children'." He smirked deviously, leading Takara out. As she stepped into the doorway, the gold tinge to her eyes faded and her body went weak. Marik dropped the revolver.

"Easy, easy…I've got you…" He murmured, sliding his arms around her waist to hold her up, "Can you still stand?" He asked, looking at her in a concerned way.

"Yeah…I'll be fine…" Takara looked back up at him, "I just…get a little woozy after I try to defend myself. I don't know why."

"It's alright," Marik smiled, keeping a careful grip on her so she didn't fall, "I'll keep you safe. You'll never have to defend yourself again, Takara."

Bakura knew that boy would be trouble, and this annoying woman had let him stay. She was crying for some weird reason, trying to brush the tears off her face. Something about those tears seemed so familiar to him, but he didn't think on it.

"I have him locked downstairs, but if he escapes…he'll go to the law." Mrs. Sohma was sniffling.

"Then we won't let him escape," Bakura flicked out his razor, looking back at the woman. The color fled from her pale face as she looked back at him.

"…Bakura," She murmured in a low voice, "I don't know…maybe we could…"

"Atemu will be here any minute," The silver-haired barber snarled in a low voice, "We have no time to argue."

They turned the corner, almost running headlong into Joey. Mrs. Sohma jumped with a squeak. "Excuse me, sir," She murmured with a small bow, "Y-you startled me."

"Sorry, I didn't meant to," Joey shook his head, "You see, I came here on business. A bunch of people were talking about the stink coming from your chimney and…with health regulations and everything, I have to have a look."

There was a long silence as Bakura and Mrs. Sohma looked at one another. Bakura finally nodded.

"Yes, of course. But, first…I did promise you a shave, didn't I?" Bakura asked with a small grin, "Please, come upstairs."

"Sorry, I have to look at the oven first." Joey shrugged, grabbing Mrs. Sohma's elbow, "C'mon, lady, I haven't got all night."

She growled, dark green eyes lightening until they were bright yellow-green. Suddenly, a large group of green vines wrapped around the blonde, before he disappeared completely. Bakura blinked in slight admiration.

"Nice job."

"Thank you." She pushed a red curl from her face. Bakura noticed that she looked more and more familiar every day. There was just something about her that made her…seem like he had seen her before. But, he didn't have time to think about it, as per usual.

"Let's go." Bakura ran down towards the basement, Mrs. Sohma trailing him like a shadow. She stepped in front of him only to open the doors. They stepped in, Bakura holding out his razor.

The grate to the sewers was open. Mrs. Sohma climbed down first, Bakura following. As if they were descending into hell.

"Mr. Todd?" Marik called, opening the door to the shop, before blinking and shrugging. "He must be out or something…" He looked at Takara, her long pink hair pulled up under a hat and dressed in loose boys' clothes, "Don't worry, no one could possibly recognize you." He smiled a little bit, "You're safe here." He watched as she looked over the collection of razors, picking up the largest one and unfolding it.

At his words, her violet eyes looked at him and she arched one perfect brow. "Safe…" She repeated quietly, "So we'll run away and all our dreams will come true?"

"I hope so," Marik murmured with a small smile. She shook her head, gazing into the razor's reflective surface with all the casualness of a young woman at her mirror.

"I've never had dreams," She mused, mostly to herself, "Only nightmares." He took both her hands in his, looking down into her eyes.

"Takara, when we're free of this place, all the ghosts will go away."

"No, Marik," She shook her head, "Ghosts never go away."

He kissed her forehead, before letting her hands free. "I'll be right back, I promise. Half an hour and we're home free."

Marik walked out as Takara watched out the window. He would never really understand anything about her. She sighed, folding the razor. But, she couldn't let go of it.