Hi there! I'm so glad I still have got readers and reviewers! *phew* At first I wasn't sure I could write this fic. You know, because we Germans don't know how to keep action in their stories and stuff. Please excuse my bad English ^-^ Very well, this time, I made marshmallow-muffins! Yay! *hands them out to her reviewers*

To Molly-chan: Yay, another reviewer! Thank you! (And I don't mind being complemented *cough*)

To Fluffylittledragon: Yes, where's Isis? I thought about it all night. I finally got an answer, and I promise you she'll be back soon ^-^

To Afevis Shyrin: It WILL be fun this chapter!(Or the next one. . . ) Yay! Uhm, I think I can get some fluff in it. And thank you ^-^ I feel quite well now, but just because I'm stuffed with penicillin -_-

That's all? Hm. . . Oh, don't mind if I write messed up things, I feel all funny in my head. Must be the medicine. Enjoy!

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Ryou's POV

That's all what happened on my first day at work. I went home in the afternoon, and I've been told I had to arrive at nine a.m. the next day. Using the day to do the laundry, I kept thinking.

Why was everything so confusing? I didn't even know that Kaiba had another corporation but KaibaCorp. And I didn't know what my task would be, what I had to do, what they were up to anyway. I mean, which legal corporation needed assassins, thieves, spies? What kind of equipment was needed?

Way too many questions, I decided, and continued shoving my laundry into the washing machine. I had to stop asking questions nobody would answer. Or would they? Maybe I could ask Bakura.

Malik said, my training would start the very next day. Of course he didn't tell me why and what I had to train. . . Well, not surprising, eh? The only thing I knew was that Bakura would be my trainer. Did I mention that he looked rather sadistic? Oh, don't get me wrong, this boy is beautiful. And no, I don't. . . well, I didn't have the hots for him. But he is. It might seem like I'm fond of myself, because we look rather similar with the white hair. Though he's slightly tanned, I'm not. And his eyes are crimson or something like that and mine are sea green. But apart of that, we could be twins.

I noticed the wash machine couldn't get more clothes, though I kept trying. I didn't notice it before, of course. I had been lost in thoughts, and now I had to pick some clothes out of the machine. Hn, you may think it's quite uncommon to use a wash machine when technical knowledge created more fast and easy ways to do laundry, but to me it's traditional. My mother had washed our clothes with this thing every time, and that was very often. I thought of Malik and his older sister who was missing. . . and that reminded me of myself again.

The day my parents had died because of some kind of modern curse, they had my little sister with them. I loved her, I did really. I had given my life for hers if I had been there, throwing myself in front of her delicate body, shielding her with my own. But I hadn't been there, and two days later someone send me the message of their death. I had to take care myself since then.

I went to bed early this evening.

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Bakura's POV

Yeah, I do remember the day Ryou got this job. The CEO just told Mariku and me to attack him so he could try his new weapon, and I guess it was me who destroyed a really expensive vase by throwing it at the elevator. Unfortunately, the doors had opened that very moment.

A soft "thumb" was heard, and I saw two bodies dropping to the floor. An angry yell reached my ears, but I didn't care. I just noticed that Seto had lowered his weapon and was heading towards the kids. Malik was there, holding a strange boy to the ground. I couldn't stop myself from staring.

I knew what Malik looked like, sure I did, and it was the boy beneath him drawing my attention. He and Malik in unison, they looked like innocence themselves. . . well, a rather angry innocence, if you chose Malik, and a confused one, the new boy. I still do laugh at my own thoughts today, but back then, I stared. Mariku shoved his elbow into my ribs, I guess to stop me from embarrassing myself.

The boy, who introduced himself as Bakura Ryou (at this point, a glare escaped my eyes), just looked like me. I knew Mariku and Malik looked alike, but they were twins, for Ra's sake! I didn't even know if I had parents! So he couldn't be related to me, right? Isis raised me along with her younger brothers. Poor hun. . . I knew they captured her.

Back to Ryou, cause that's the topic I'm supposed to tell about, right? Actually, it's Ryou's story, but I couldn't stand the look in his eyes when he asked me to. Anyways. Sea green eyes stared back at me in confusion, and even I wanted to soften my glare, I couldn't. Chase him away, I thought, and don't let him get hurt. Hah, you'd never expect, hm?

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Ryou's POV again.

Morning came too early, and I groaned and rolled over in my bed. Damn alarm clock. It wouldn't shut up. So I decided to get my ### off the bed and get dressed.

My eyes stared back at me from the mirror. I couldn't help myself but to imagine that if they were crimson, that if my hair would get a bit shorter and untidier, that if I could get some sun, I could look more similar to Bakura. . . I noticed that it was snowing when I glanced out of the window. Speaking of sun - large, pure white flakes of frozen rain hovered slowly and silently to the ground, and it was still dark outside. I only saw them because of the light I lit in the bathroom.

Sighing, I finished all the washing and teeth-brushing, and went to the kitchen for breakfast. Breakfast was a glass of milk and an apple - I had forgotten to buy food. Great day. But I was looking forward work! And that's because I left my apartment quickly and headed towards the mansion. Snow was still falling, and I watched the flakes dreamily as my thoughts drifted away. The cold snow laid down softly on my face, melting quickly, and they reminded me of flowers. . . little flowers made of paper. Paper flowers. Yeah. But when I looked at it with another point of view, they seemed like the little ice crystals they were. Cold, deathly beautiful, glittering with their own uniqueness.

I guess that was the day I started thinking of Bakura as a snow flake.

I'm not mentioning -again- that we are rather similar. I'm not thinking of myself as a snow flake. I'm whether cold nor deathly. . . I'm not even beautiful. But that doesn't matter now, does it?

Anyways, I passed the last alley which led me towards the mansion when I felt a quick movement. I don't know how I felt it; I think I just saw it in the edge of my eyes. But it was there, and I stopped dead as a bullet drilled into the wall, passing me by only a few inches. The blood left my face and I was unable to move; I didn't even hear the shot, you know! Had I been that lost in thoughts?

I heard the second shot, though. And I flinched backwards, so it missed me again, while I started looking around frantically. Everything was white with snow but a small, single place on the covered ground which was red with blood. My blood? Did I bleed? It didn't hurt. Seconds later there was a fluent, elegant movement in front of me, and a muffled sound was heard.

I saw crimson orbs staring down on me, narrowed, but worried somehow. Pure white strands fell into this eyes, which seemed to ban my gaze into them, and I noticed that the cloaked shoulder underneath this hair was bleeding and soaking the white cloak with red liquid.

"You okay?", a harsh voice asked me, slightly panting, as Bakura grabbed his shoulder and pressed his palm onto the wound. I could only nod. Sure, I was okay, but it was my fault he had been injured, wasn't it? Nobody stumbles back when they're stunned with shock. No, you only can move when someone pushed you back and shield you with their own body.

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Whoa, that was a sad chapter. . . I'm sorry! I know I promised training with Bakura. But there will be! I just had to write this, Ryou being bothered with thoughts. . . but why did someone want to shoot him? See ya next time ^-^