Ryou was getting prepared for something that began with an 'a,' ended with an 'e,' and had in the middle 'b,''u,' and 's.'

This preparation was cut short by the little Bakura dashing to his yami and getting him in a headlock. "Stay away!" the young Egyptian barked. He was talking to Ryou. "And whatever you do, don't eat him! Once this kid from the flat next door found one of these and we haven't seen him since."

It took Yami Bakura a hilariously long time to pry himself from the grasp of someone about a head shorter than he. "Do I look like a plant to you?" he snapped, as soon as he was as far as possible from himself.

"Oh," his younger self said dully, "Y-ya, that makes more sense now. You talk." A pause. "Who are you, again?"

The yami brushed himself off, very indignant. "Well, that depends. Who are you?"

Ryou wasn't sure if he should tell them or not.

"Erm . . . excuse me. . . . Yami, could you come over here for a second?"

"Ne?"

Ryou sighed. "Yami, how many times do I have to tell you? It's 'nani.' 'Nani' means 'what,' not 'ne.'"

". . . . ne?"

"Oh, just come over here!" And, much to his surprise, he did. Ryou was at first so surprised at this fact that he was lost for words, but then he realized that the yami was probably doing so on account that closer to Ryou equaled further from Bakura, his amazement ceased. "Don't tell me you don't know who that kid is. . . !" he whispered.

Yami Bakura snorted. "You're acting as if he's wearing a name tag. How in the hell did he get in, anyway?"

Ryou ignored that last question, partially because he didn't know the answer himself, but mainly because he was desperately trying to make his next words sound at least partially sane. "W-well, doesn't he look . . . familiar?"

"No." And this he said flatly. "Should he?"

Another bout of silence from the boy was rudely interrupted by a chomping sound and the fact that his yami was now yanked back several feet by his younger self. Now, Ryou was less than used to dealing with situations as such, but he did own a small Maltese poodle when he was about ten, and trying to convince himself that this was experience enough to handle things, yelled, "Down, boy, down!"

Though pretty damn ineffective, this did manage to get the little (?) boy's attention. Bakura glared dejectedly at Ryou for a second with a very I'm-just-trying-to-help aura about him, and spit out Yami Bakura's hand.

"What I was trying to say was. . . ." Not willing to pause and give Bakura a chance to bite again, Ryou let out a string of words that, he was sure, made a lot less sense than what he originally attempted to portray. "You idiot! He's you as a kid; don't you get it already?"

The expression that came across Yami Bakura's face was something between hysterical and disbelieving. His teeth were also gritted, which made it all the more difficult to say, "Excuse me?"

"You! Him! Do I have to show you manually?" His previous statement seemed to have paralyzed both the Yami Bakuras from head to foot so Ryou took the liberty to turn them to face each other, with uncharacteristic (not to mention un-Christian) swearing.

Yami Bakura's eyes swivelled from Bakura to Ryou in an instant. "Hey, you know that a-b-u-s-e thing you were thinking about earlier?" He paused. "Hold that thought for a moment, okay? You!" He abruptly turned his attention back to his younger self. He grabbed hold of the Egyptian's shoulders and backed him away from him as far as a yami possibly could. "Get. Out. Of. Here. Right. This. Instant." He might have continued his threat, but he ran out of space to back into.

It was a while before he realized that the Egyptian probably didn't understand a word he said. Yami Bakura had clearly gotten overused to speaking Japanese. Even when he had taken him by surprise that morning, Ryou had addressed Bakura in the best Egyptian he could muster, and even then communication was rusty. This, of course, was probably due to the fact that Ryou's Egyptian was hardly anything to speak of, but it wasn't like he really got a chance to practice it, with modern Egyptians speaking Arabic and all. Then there was Malik who got all cocky with his Japanese accent (who knows where he picked that up. Had he ever even seen a Japanese person before the whole Yugi shebang?), which was even weirder. But, to summarize, his grasp on ancient languages on a day-to-day basis sucked. Especially since Egyptians didn't have any vowels that scientists could identify, and the Japanese . . . had yet to understand the separation of constantans.

Bakura did understand, though, that he had been given an order, and reacted accordingly. He undid Yami Bakura's grip in half the time he had established it, and began pushing his elder self in the opposite direction. "You. Get. Out. Of. Here. Right. This. Instant." he mirrored.

"Fascinating," Ryou trilled, "I'll have to record something about this. I'll be right back, I have to- Rather, I have to- wait. . . ." He took a deep breath to recollect himself. Then, in Egyptian, "Okay, we've established that you are definitely not a slave. But what happened to the whole meekness thing? Weren't you discriminated against as a child, for the . . . hair and all? Okay, so maybe you don't have the pale skin like lots of people think you have, but still- oh." The "oh" was a sign that Bakura had personally taken measures to quiet the funny white skinned boy (can we see a division of races here?) by clamping his jaw shut.

Bakura then turned to Yami Bakura, easily more passive than before. Much to his own surprise, Ryou had considerable problems understanding what he said. He could tell it was Egyptian -there was no doubting that, but it did seem quite different than what he had learned. Yami Bakura replied briefly in the same Egyptian, then said, in Japanese, "He says, 'Why does he talk like some crackpot old priest?'" He laughed, though darkly. "Really. Those hieroglyphics were written by professional scribes. Do you really think . . . normal people talked like that. Colloquial, if you will, though judging by the way you usually talk in any language, you're not familiar with the term, ne?"

"You seem to be very picky over one word when you still won't see what's obvious." Ryou retorted.

"I know he's . . . he's me!" the spirit snapped back. "And now I am actively trying to forget that, right after I get him out of my sight."

"Ohhh . . . I understand." Ryou murmured.

"Ohhh . . . I understand." repeated Bakura excitedly, with no idea what Yami Bakura had said.

"Ohhh . . . shut up, both of you." Yami Bakura pouted. "Really, for someone who's taking four language classes at once, you're hopeless at being a linguist. Let me do this. . . ."

"So you admit that this boy is you?" Ryou interrupted. He got no reply, though he knew the answer.

"Ya. Mi. Ba. Ku. Ra." the spirit instructed, indicating himself. "Yami Bakura."

"Ya -mi?" Bakura repeated tentatively. "Yami . . . Bakura."

"Yes, yes, that's it -No, wait. Wrong syllable! It's BA-ku-ra, not Ba-KU-ra!"

"Ba-KU-ra." said Bakura stubbornly.

"And this," Ryou said, "is how we can see two different cultures clashing. I still can't believe that Bakura could be the name for an Egyptian boy. Honestly. . . ." He took in another deep breath. A good oxygen supply was supposed to help with depression, the doctor has said. "In any account, do keep at it. It'll take quite a while, but I think we can eventually get him so he can at least keep up with casual conversations in Japan."

"People coming over, really?" Bakura asked, clearly this time, causing Ryou to fall back in his chair.

"I could actually understand that!" he said, half choking from sudden shock of being able to understand the boy's Egyptian. "How did you -? Since when -?"

"Oh, I can." Bakura said in a matter-of-fact way. "Just don't like to. Only people who talk like that are the Pharaoh and those freakish servants of his. You know, with the palace an' all." Even at a young age, his yami seemed to possess the same views on royalty. Interesting.

Even if Ryou knew exactly what to say, he couldn't respond because at that moment, the doorbell rang.

Yugi's voice was heard, muffled by the door.

"Oh, great." Yami Bakura groaned.

"Well, at least something's happening that should in fanfictions. Whenever something bad happens between us, they always have to come to visit. Of course, it's usually something weird like you losing your memory or me getting beat up or. . . ."

"You think this is ordinary?" the spirit of the Millennium Ring demanded, pointing at Bakura. Yugi's voice was getting louder. "Do something about him." he hissed before getting up to answer the door. He could hear Ryou coaching Bakura on basic Japanese culture in the living room as he turned the knob:

"Now, whatever you do, make it known that you are definitely not Japanese. Remember, this is anime -no one really looks Japanese if they're an anime character, even if they live in Japan, so that means that you'll have to use more than looks to prove you're Middle Eastern. That means to be just as shaky about the language as you always are. They'll get it. Alright, now: If they tell you something that sounds like a request, remember to say 'hai' before going off."

"Hai?"

"No, no, no, no, no. You have to make it more abrupt sounding. Hai!"

"Hai! . . . ?"

"No, that's a Japanese's woman's 'hai.' You don't want to sound gay now, do you? Say it sharply now. HAI!"

"HAI!"

"That's it! You got it! HAI!"

"HAI!"

Ryou seemed pleased, but he knew time was against him, so he picked up the pace a bit. "If it's just an ordinary question, just nod and answer "ah." None of the abrupt stuff, very polite. And at random intervals during the conversation, make sure to go, "ne," and "so desu ne" so they know you're still listening. Right . . . that's enough for now. Now, get out there, kay? I'll be right with you."

"HAI!" Bakura answered cheerfully, scampering off.

_______________________________________________________________

I have this sinking feeling that most of that Japanese was extremely Japanese-suburb-San Franciscan-style Japanese. I'm . . . what? Third generation from Japan on one side? Go me. . . . I do that 'ne?' thing that Yami Bakura does. Drives Mum crazy.

I'm trying to imagine what colloquial Egyptian sounded like. [pause] I anticipate when I get to start writing about Little Brother. [Readers of Yami Bakura Divided by Confusion Equals Algebra might know the doggie.] Dogs=good.