Nefuit: Ok, normal disclaimer.*holds up sign that says she doesn't own YGO* I gotta take the PSAT test tomorrow, so don't know when I will get time to update. Yay! This chappie is a little longer!









Ryou

After evading Shadi, I began walking slowly among the long, winding corridors. Though my sense of direction might not be the best, I quickly came upon my room. I pulled the long chain from underneath my new clothes, and sorted among my various charms until I came upon the key that Shadi had handed me earlier. It slid easily into the lock and I heard a gentle "click". The door swung open as if on its own accord, and I gasped at the sight. All along the walls were images of Egyptian hieroglyphs, which is understandable and all, but among them were English quotes painted in a delicate calligraphic tone. I couldn't help but wonder how Shadi knew my likes and dislikes so well. Maybe it was father or Ianoo, but neither of them knew my profound interest in quotes. As my eyes scanned the delicate words, my expression became more aghast; every single quote adhered to me; my personality, my morals, in a haunting display that showed that I no longer had any hidden secrets. This thought both comforted me and scared me to the bone. Among them were:

Mark Twain - "All say, 'How hard it is that we have to die' - a strange complaint to come from the mouths of people who have had to live."

Lucius Annaeus Seneca - "The day which we fear as our last is but the birthday of eternity."

Thomas Mann - "A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own."

Blaise Pascal - "In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don't."

"Solitude vivifies; isolation kills."

-Joseph Roux

"What lies behind us and what lies ahead of us are tiny matters compared to what lives within us."

-Oliver Wendell Holmes

"Beware the fury of a patient man."

-John Dryden

"What a curious phenomenon it is that you can get men to die for the liberty of the world who will not make the little sacrifice that is needed to free themselves from their own individual bondage." (Bruce Barton)

I staggered blindly into my room and collapsed a few feet into the door. Upon my hitting the floor, the door quickly slammed shut; but I did not notice. All these quotes, so hauntingly accurate, both embraced my entire being, and shunned it. They offered a comfort that I was not alone, yet offered the fear that there must be the others that contradict them. After several minutes, I gained my composure in the least, and began to search my chamber. There was a bed, a shelving unit laden with books and a few games such as checkers and chess, and odd round stone, and a golden box. I walked over to the desk and opened it, delighted to find what appeared to be an unlimited supply of papers and various writing utensils, but more appropriately, a small, pocket sized journal. It may have been plain to some, old and worn, but being the son of an archaeologist, it fit. I walked over to the bed and collapsed. I had so many thoughts to sort out.

My mind immediately wandered to the quotes, which invoked a painful memory of mine I have long since tried to keep covered; one does not wish to remember the time he was nearest death. It had been a late Saturday night, nearing Sunday as the clock ticked its way nearer midnight. After yielding to my darker half as he constantly hit me with fists and various objects, he asked me a question, "Why do you continue your life so?" I didn't know how to answer, nor did I have the time to expel any of my much-needed breath, for upon saying this, he stabbed me. I was lucky, he didn't hit any major organs, but I have yet to figure out how I survived, but I believe it was my undying will to continue. All I remember was a blinding white light, and then when I awoke the next day, I was in my bed and all bandaged up. I think I may have figured out the answer to his harsh question, but I am still undecided.

I then thought of all the events, all the wonderful and terrifying events from arriving to Egypt up until Malik's demise, and all events in one day, one mere rotation on the clock. Shadi. I gasped. I remembered the words he just said, but more. When he first saw me, there was something in his eyes. Why had he said "especially you"? Why was it he was worried over me being out there in the Egyptian streets? Why didn't he utter a word when my Yami and I fought? Why was Ianoo's poem so haunting to my subconscious? What did he mean by, "The wind may cause the light to flicker, but the shadow remains unswayed?" Then a revelation came about me. The wind. A common analogy to change. The light, me, the hikari, the innocent, the pure. The shadow, the Dark, the Yami. The winds of change may affect the lighter half, but the darker half will never change. Can this possibly be true?

Ianoo

Since I was not new to this huge mansion, I easily found my room; the old room I used to live in. It hadn't changed a bit, except for the trunk lying by my bedside. I ignored it for now and went to lie down on my bed. How was Ryou? What had come of Malik? I couldn't help, a rare, solitary tear rolled down my cheek. How can I loose so many so quickly? Maybe I am cursed. Maybe I should get away from here! I can't let Ryou suffer the same fate! I have made up my mind; I am leaving, tonight!



Back to normal point of view..

Ryou quickly looked up from his lying on his bed as he heard a banging on his door, then a fumbling sound, and something hitting the ground. Ryou, scared as he was, got silently up and opened the door to reveal a collapsed Bakura, gasping for breath.

"What the." Ryou started as he jumped back in surprise. He then helped his Yami up and helped aid him to a chair. He noticed how swollen his ankle had become.

"HOW MANY BLOODY ROOMS ARE THERE?" Bakura shouted out as Ryou just rolled his eyes and groaned.

"Are we to share our quarters?" Ryou politely asked his Yami, who glared angrily back. "Touchy!" Ryou said, why was he acting like this?

Despite his ankle, Bakura jumped quickly to his feet and began marching around the room, looking for something. He then made his way to the shelves, ignoring Ryou's constant badgering for an answer to his actions. He only gave a smug smirk as he pulled a book quickly from the bookshelf, knocking down the golden box. Ryou ran to the box, to pick it up since he was neat and tidy, but Bakura just roughly pushed him back to the ground. Ryou was about to demand an explanation when his Yami said something.

"Hush now." Bakura firmly said, as Ryou, now sitting on the ground, sent him a quizzical look. With that, Bakura appeared to vanish.

"What the." Ryou started. But before he could say anything else, he heard a knocking on the door once more. Ryou felt a little uneasy as he walked slowly towards the door. Finally, mustering up as much courage as he could, Ryou threw open the door.

"H-hello? Is anyone there?" Ryou shakily asked.

He didn't stand a chance; poor Ryou didn't even have time to scream.

Nefuit: *sigh* NOT how I wanted this to turn out, but I completely lost control of my writing half way through. Oooo. What happened to Malik? What happened to Ryou? Is Yami Bakura really changed? Who is in charge of the rise of the Shadow games? Who is to blame for this madness? (Give these questions a guess! If you guess right, I might just give you a prize *grins*)

Ryou: What have you done!

Bakura: Yeah! I thought I was gonna..gonn..*ACHOO* be nice. *sniffle*

Ianoo: *walks in carrying Ryou's puppy* I know! Let's name him Toro.

Ryou: Where did that come from?

Ianoo: *smiles evilly* TOmb RObber!

Ryou: *giggles* Ok! I like it!

Bakura: Grea..*ACHOO* Great, just Great.