Marik opened the door, surprised to see the other blonde standing there. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, seeing the look on Jounochi's face.

Jou shook his head, not looking at Marik. "Can I come in?"

Marik took Jou by the arm and led him to the couch. "What's wrong?" he asked softly.

Jou laid his head against Marik's shoulder. "Nothing," he said in too soft a voice.

Marik brought Jou close, holding him, petting his hair. "What's wrong, koinu?"

"I'm not a puppy," he whispered, tears falling down his cheeks.

"You miss Kaiba?" Marik asked needlessly.

"I miss you, too."

Marik wrapped his arms around Jounochi, who laid his head on Marik's shoulder, beginning to cry quietly. "It's okay..." Marik whispered, soothing Jounochi to sleep.

---

Jou's hands trailed up and down Marik's back as the Egyptian held his sleeping ex-koi in his arms. Normally, Marik would have been quite upset, or at least unnerved, by the tracing of his scars by other's hands. But this time...holding Jounochi again...Marik only felt peaceful.

Until he looked up.

There.

Sitting.

Watching.

Smiling.

Yami Marik.

Marik gasped. Jounochi stirred and looked up in his eyes. "Marik?"

"Jou, please go," Marik said in a monotone voice.

"Marik? What's wrong?"

"I...I need to think."

Jou turned to look at where Marik was staring. He didn't see anything that would be upsetting Marik this bad. "Are...you sure?" He really didn't want to leave, but what else could he do? If Marik didn't want him there, he wasn't going to outstay his welcome. They had only started speaking on normal terms lately.

"Alright, Marik..." Jounochi got up and walked to the door, eyeing the upset Egyptian carefully.

---

"What the FUCK are you doing here?" Marik yelled the minute he heard the door closed.

Yami Marik threw his head back and laughed maniacally. He became un-transparent, standing up. "My dear, omote. Thank you. Now I am real."

Marik screamed.

---

Bakura clicked on his ringing cell phone. "Yeah?" he said into it, adjusting his sunglasses as he drove in his jeep. His hair trailed behind him wildly and music blared loudly from the sound system.

"Help! Oh Ra, Bakura, you gotta help me..."

Bakura turned the music down. "Marik? What's wrong? Where are you?"

"Please you gotta help me."

"Marik, what happened?"

"I was just...Jou was just...I...he's back."

"Who's back?" Bakura asked, turning on the street to Marik's house, unintentionally stepping on the gas harder.

"Yami..."

"Yami?"

"My yami."

"Oh Ra..." Bakura stepped down on the gas and with a screeching of tires, sped to Marik's apartment. "What exactly happened?"

"I was just holding Jounochi...he was sad. I looked up...he was rubbing my scars in his sleep...and...and...he was there. Just sitting. Grinning. He's here, Bakura. Ra, I'm so scared. He's fucking here!"

"It's okay. We'll push him back. We'll--"

"No! He's real this time! He said I made him real! How did I--"

"Calm down!" Bakura yelled into the cell. He pulled into a really shitty parking job outside the complex, turning of the engine. "I'm here. I'll be right there." He clicked off his phone and ran up the stairs, two at a time, to Marik's apartment. He opened the door to a very...interesting sight.

"Hello Bakura," a partially crazed, mostly exotic voice said.

Bakura took his sunglasses off and backed up a bit. "You're not a spirit."

Yami Marik laughed. "So you noticed." He held the door open to Bakura. "Come in."

Bakura stepped past him carefully. "Where's Marik?"

"My omote is in the kitchen. Crying."

Bakura left the yami there and went into the kitchen. Body-jerking sobs came from the crumbled up blonde on the floor, tearing at his hair. Bakura got on his knees and took Marik in his arms. "It's okay, Marik," he soothed. "It's okay. We'll figure this out."

"What's there to figure out?" broke in Yami Marik. "I'm here."

"A way to get rid of you again!" Marik screamed, clutching at Bakura.

"That's a very mean thing to say, Marik. How do you think Bakura would feel if Ryou told him to 'fuck off?' Huh?"

"Can you just leave me alone...?"

"Why do you hate me so much, omote?"

"Leave him alone, Yami Marik," Bakura growled warningly.

"WHY DOES EVERYONE CALL ME THAT?! Yami Ryou gets to be Bakura, Yami Yugi gets to be just plain Yami, why am I 'Yami Marik'?! The least you could fucking do is call me...Mariku or Ishtar... But no, it's 'YAMI MARIK'!"

Bakura and Marik looked at him questioningly, Marik's tears and fears forgotten.

"I know why! Because I'm only a split personality! If I was a spirit possessing you, I'd get this glorious name, but NO! I'm Yami no Malik! Fucking... Even split personalities get names, omote!"

"What would you like to be called?" Marik asked softly.

Yami Marik sat quietly, thinking. Finally, he said, "Yarik will work just fine, thank you."

"Yarik?" Bakura asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yup. Yami Marik combined equals Yarik. It works for me."

"So we're settled on the name thing?" Bakura asked carefully.

"Mhmm."

"Okay...Yarik. What are you doing here?" Bakura asked carefully.

"What is Marik doing here? Egypt holds too many painful memories? Kind of funny, since isn't it, here, in Japan, that the worse memories happened?"

"Yarik, why can't you just leave Marik alone? He was happy before you came back!" Bakura defended his best friend.

"Did he and the other blonde ever hook up?" Yarik asked, pulling out a long, shiny, cutting knife and examined it.

"We..." Marik spoke up. "We dated. But we broke up."

"Mhmm..." Yarik mumbled, running the blade over his arm. When it cut and blood flowed, he clapped his hands happily. "Look, Omote! I'm alive!" He held up his bleeding arm triumphantly.

"Exactly how is that possible?" Marik asked softly.

"It's when you recognized me, Marik. I've been watching you for awhile, but you never saw me. So now I'm here. As alive as...the other yamis..."

"Why now?" Marik asked softly, tears forming in his eyes again.

"I had to pay for my crimes and such in the Shadow Realm. I'm not going to hurt you, Marik. I just want to be alive, the same as any spirit or personality. I'll leave, even, if you like."

"No...hurting?"

"My evil was burned from me. Very painful. But effective."

"I just...don't understand..."

"It's highly complicated."

"Why...then who are you?"

"Who am I?" Yarik gave Marik a quizzical look. "What in this abyss does that mean?"

"You...you were born from my hate and pain. If you no longer have evil--"

"-Born-, Omote, born. That isn't all I am. You and your sister were born out of lust and duty. But that isn't all you are. You grew up, you developed. You became Marik Ishtar. And she, Isis Ishtar. So what am I? I'm not sure. A blank canvas." He raised his eyebrows, chewing on his lip. "I plan to develop."

"Excuse me?"

He sighed. "I want to be real, is that such a bad thing? I want to live. I want to...what do living people do, gods, I don't know!"

Marik broke from Bakura and slowly made his way to his yami. "Okay...I think I can help."

"Marik!" Bakura exclaimed. "What are you doing?!"

Marik looked back at Bakura. "Well, uh, what would have happened if you guys never started trusting me again? I think we need to give him a chance."

"A chance?" Bakura spoke uneasily.

Marik nodded. "Y-yes... A chance."

Yarik grinned, clapping his hands together. "YESSSSSS!!!!!!! Thank you, omote, you won't regret this!" He threw his arms around Marik, hugging him.

Marik gasped, startled, then smiled weakly. "Yup..."

Yarik broke from Marik. "We have so much to do! Starting with...a desperate change of clothing. Be right back!" He ran off to find Marik's bedroom.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Bakura spoke nervously.

Marik shook his head. "No. But he seems too happy for words."

Bakura nodded. "Alright."