A/N: And heeeeeeere it is! The very last chapter of a very long story (at least by my standards. Do you realise I've spent over nine months on this thing?). Hope you all enjoy it. And please don't forget to review!
Epilogue.
"Yami, teach me how to use my powers."
They were both in the lounge: Bakura spread over the sofa like a blanket, a book trailing absently from one white hand; and Ryou in the armchair, posture straight and earnest, eyes fixed unwaveringly on his other.
The spirit raised his head slowly, and after a moment an expression of surprise slid over his face. "Where did that come from?"
"I've been thinking about what happened while we were in those other worlds, and how I used my shadow powers to do all those things to you, and then when I wanted to use them to help people I couldn't, except occasionally, and that was just luck. I just think it would be better for everyone if I could control them."
Bakura examined the determined look on his face, and a slightly resigned look came into his eyes. "You're feeling guilty about this."
"Yes."
"Don't, Ryou. It wasn't your fault."
"It was. And I don't like the idea of having something inside me which I can't control."
A rush of air blew around his face as the yami exhaled heavily. His eyes swept over Ryou, analysing his expression; taking in the way his mouth was set in a stubborn pout, arms folded over his chest in the way Bakura himself often sat. He had never realised before just how forbidding it looked, how defensive.
"Very well. But only if you stop blaming yourself for what you did. It's all in the past anyway."
"I will." Ryou smiled and unfolded his arms, changing before his yami's eyes back into innocent host again. But he hadn't, not really; and wasn't that the mistake which had cost him so dearly before? Thinking that just because Ryou treated the world in such a polite - hell, even naïve - manner meant that was all there was to him?
He looked so young now, eager smile stretched tightly across his face; his bearing radiating barely restrained expectancy, like a child awaiting a long-promised sweet.
"Right." Bakura floundered for a moment, unsure where to begin, and thought he saw a gleam of humour in Ryou's eyes, although it might have been his imagination. "…Well, what exactly do you want me to teach you?"
"Everything," his light answered promptly. "All the things I can do with my powers. Like…I don't know, summoning Duel Monsters. All the things you and Yugi's yami can do. Minus the killing people."
But that's the best bit. "All right then. No killing. Summoning a Duel Monster is easy enough; we can start with that and work our way onto more convoluted procedures like shielding and so forth later on." Bakura took their deck from his pocket, and as he drew he felt that familiar light-headed confidence surge through him. This was easy. No crazy lights or anything to worry about; and anyway he had been summoning monsters ever since he had awoken from his three-thousand-year sleep within the Millennium Ring.
He glanced down carelessly at the card, holding it loosely between two fingers, before showing it to his other. "Simply say the monster's name, and concentrate on pooling as much shadow-energy as you feel necessary into the card, while picturing it in your mind. The more you concentrate the stronger it will be. You don't actually have to say the name of the monster, but I find that it helps."
Ryou nodded slowly, digesting this, before reaching out nervously to take a card. "…Dark Magician. We really should give this back to Yugi some time."
His yami raised and lowered a shoulder indifferently.
"Puppet Master."
A screech like the opening of a rusty door, as it flickered into view. Then, a curt wave of the hand, and it vanished again.
My turn. Ryou scrunched up his eyes and glared at the card in his hand, mind straining. "…It isn't working." His voice shrill with frustration and dismay. "I can't get them to come out! This is exactly what happened in that place with the scientists! It's like they've just frozen!"
"You're too tense," his yami pronounced flatly.
"I know, but I can't help it." Ryou was becoming even more agitated, even as he tried to calm his mind, which felt like there were dozens of greyhounds streaking around inside it.
After five minutes had passed, in which the teenager tried with unvarying failure to bring his powers to the surface, Bakura took to tapping his foot in irritating monotony, signalling his displeasure.
"I'm trying, really!"
"Of course."
"It isn't my fault-"
The Ring-spirit gave a tight-lipped, altogether unpleasant smile. "I know. In fact, it is mine. I shouldn't have expected you to do something as laborious as getting your powers to come out on your own. Or perhaps the mere simplicity of the command was strenuous?"
Ryou stared; then his gaze hardened. "Don't talk to me like that."
A small sigh; a shake of the head; a brief, indulgent smile.
"Stop it!"
"I'd rather not."
"Stop it!"
The distant roar in the background, as fire filled the room. The teenager's eyes burned with an incandescence so intense Bakura could almost feel the heat on his skin.
"Finally. I was beginning to wonder how much longer you would take."
The flames flickered and fell away into themselves, as Ryou said uncertainly, "…You…you were doing that on purpose?"
"If by 'that' you mean being a bastard, then yes."
"Oh."
"It worked though, didn't it?"
The light hung his head slightly, eyes downcast and studying the floor. "I…thought you meant it."
Ah, the gullibility of lighter halves, Bakura thought idly. Aloud: "Ryou, don't be an idiot. You are so trusting you sometimes border on naïve. I thought we'd both realised that the days of me hurting you are over. And, face it, I have better things to do with my time."
"You do know that when I act all miserable and doubt you like that, you're supposed to reassure me and maybe give me a hug or something instead of telling me I'm an idiot?"
An unconcerned shrug. "I figured it would have the same effect. But I can give you a hug if you want."
Slightly bemusedly: "If you want to."
"Of course I do. You're nice to hug."
Ryou smiled shyly. "Thank you."
"It's-aw, don't look at me like that. I'm starting to feel guilty." Bakura stepped forward and carefully held him, heart twisting as his mind noted how fragile his light felt in his arms. "…So warm." The words were whispered in Ryou's ear.
Ryou wriggled uncomfortably. "You unnerve me when you say things like that."
"Why is that?" The spirit pressed himself further against him. "Is it because I'm dead and the only warmth I feel is that of your body? Your liiiiving waaarmth?" He couldn't resist drawing out the syllables of the last two words.
"Yami, you're beginning to creep me out." Ryou's tone was oddly matter-of-fact.
"That would be the whole point." Bakura pulled away with a speed that indicated dismissal. "How did we get to me hugging you? I thought I was teaching you to summon Duel Monsters."
Ryou nodded, slightly subdued at being waved aside so airily, like a persistent and irritating fly.
"I trust you haven't forgotten how to focus your powers already?"
"No." Frowning as he pushed the thought away, he tried to gather the fire that burned inside and direct it in its entirety at the card in his hand, feeling the flimsy paper it was made of. Like him, this card had hidden depths. Unlike him, its limits were known.
"I summon Dark Magician!"
It didn't just shimmer into view - it burst into life like a ball from a cannon. He stared at it, seeing it real and physical and solid before him, and without realising it his mind mentally ran its eye over the body, adding details beyond those printed onto the card. A belt buckle, an extra strand of hair poking out from under the hat, felt patching the holes in its tattered sleeves-
"Having fun?"
He plummeted back to earth, and felt the familiar heat creep up his neck, bringing with it its humiliating red dye. "Yes." He hesitated, wanting to say more but embarrassed to do so, before blurting out: "It's so easy."
His yami gave a smile, his tone thoughtful. "You are very talented."
"Th-thanks." He didn't blush this time but glowed, crimson flush spreading over his cheeks.
The Dark Magician regarded him solemnly from under the slightly-too-large hat, before dropping to its knees and prostrating itself before him.
"Such humility," Bakura remarked wryly. "I only wish my own monsters showed me that kind of respect."
Ryou turned his gaze back upon the Dark Magician; it straightened up and gave Bakura the finger.
"Why you-" Dark Necrophia seemed to leap out of the card as the Ring-spirit jabbed a finger at the Dark Magician; a moment later she was sent sprawling to the ground with an indignant squeal.
"2500 attack points," Bakura said moodily, a moment later. "I forgot." He sighed and gestured at his monster; she retreated willingly. "And what do you think you are sniggering at?"
"Nothing," his light answered meekly.
"Bollocks. I'm not stupid. Not that stupid, anyway," Bakura added as an afterthought. "So. We've done summoning monsters; what do you want to try next?"
"Shielding?" Ryou offered hopefully. "I want to be able to do something if someone attacks me."
"You can do something: you can send them to the Shadow Realm. From what I've seen, it doesn't seem to require a lot of effort on your part."
"But I don't want to kill anyone."
"Trapping someone's mind in the Shadow Realm and killing them are quite different things," the Ring-spirit told him sternly. "Although after a while they have the same effect. A body can only survive without a soul for a little while. After that, it just…gives up."
"Is that what happened to all my friends who you put in those dolls?" Ryou asked quietly.
Without shame: "Probably. It's been several years." Carrying on so his light wouldn't have a chance to ponder on this: "Shielding takes a lot of energy. You'll probably be exhausted afterwards. But less the second time. And it will be worth it."
Ryou gave him an unhappy look at steering so forcefully away from the fates of the people his yami had trapped so many years ago, before holding up the card as a sign for the Dark Magician to return to its shadowy oblivion. It did so, but not before giving him one last bow.
"So how do you do it?"
"The key element is visualisation. You have to be able to see it in front of you before it appears. You have to be able to hold the image in your mind, while concentrating on the physical world as well. And what you need to see is like an aura of light around you, only solid. Shields are fatiguing because to make them effective you have to pour all your energy into them. But a good shield can easily repel objects, people and even someone else's shadow power. They can also help with dealing with the more unpleasant effects of a Shadow Game."
"Why don't you use them in that way?"
Bakura let out an impatient snort, heavily marked with disdain. "Because I'm not going to let my opponent know how much the game is getting to me, am I? Besides, it's only pain." He raised an eyebrow condescendingly. "There are far worse things, you know. Now, let's see you shield."
Ryou obediently did what his yami had described, trying to visualise a barrier around himself. Immediately pale blue washed over his vision, as he viewed the room from behind the safety of his screen.
"Not bad." Bakura eyed it critically, before raising a hand and stabbing a finger into the vibrating mass of shadow-matter. His light saw the skin squish at the sides, like pressing your nose against glass.
Without warning, Bakura seized a cushion from the sofa and lobbed it at him. It bounced off and tumbled to the floor.
"Not bad at all."
Ryou felt the shield around himself shudder and suddenly flicker, and doggedly shoved even more power into it, feeling his light-headedness increase as he did so.
"Try pushing this away." A beam of energy squirted from the Ring, and Ryou thrust his barrier outward, to meet and negate its effects.
Without commenting, the yami took a step forward and this time Ryou felt something nearer to his full strength, although he could still feel him holding back. There was the uncomfortable sensation of being a loaf of bread in an oven, with the pressure closing in on you from all sides, and the heat increasing. He discovered he couldn't push this away as he had been able to do before, and instead had to concentrate on simply resisting, feeling the pressure grow and grow and grow.
Bakura pushed harder, wearing his defences down, and Ryou's shield crumbled away into nothing. Before any of the energy could hit him Bakura pulled it back into the Ring, like yanking on a leash, and his light felt a tiny flicker of envy that his yami had so much control over his powers.
"That was good."
"Not really," Ryou mumbled. He felt suddenly, shockingly useless.
"You need to work on your self-esteem," his other told him. "Considering that was the first time you had consciously done it, I thought you did rather well. All you need is practice."
Cue the self-conscious smile.
"You can try on me now." As he spoke Bakura brought up his own shield, and his light could feel the power in it. "Just hit me with everything you've got. You can't hurt me, don't worry."
Perhaps it was the confidence in that last sentence, or just the general feeling that he wanted to do something right, but Ryou made up his mind to break through his yami's barrier no matter how long it took. So he shut his eyes for a moment and rallied his powers so they blazed around him, ready to be used, and had his eyes been open he would have seen the satisfaction in his other's face.
The flames wrapped around each other in frenzied anticipation, and as he directed them at his dark Ryou unconsciously kept them pulled back, hands on the reins.
His beam punched straight through Bakura's shield as if it wasn't there, meeting no resistance. Or rather, all resistance was quashed before it even had a chance to properly protest. The impact threw the spirit backward across the room, and he was half guided, half dumped on the sofa in a dazed pile.
…………
Serafina patrolled the edges of the chasm with all the unquestioning duty of a security guard, while inside her sheer helplessness to stop what was happening chomped away at her insides. She was perfectly aware of what was happening, although she couldn't see. She didn't need the vision of the Mulefa to tell her that Dust was pouring away into a massive void, taking all the goodness of the world with it, and that she could do absolutely nothing about it. She could feel it; feel the way something akin to a light breeze rippled along her smooth skin and every time it blew away it took something with it, leaving her a little more empty.
"There has to be something we can do."
Kaisa gave what could have been an animal version of a shrug, albeit a far more graceful version, and replied almost indifferently: "Why is that?"
"Because…because there has to be…" She trailed off, unable to explain that of course there had to be an answer, that every problem had an answer, you just sometimes had to keep thinking until you found it.
"That is the attitude of fools."
"Perhaps." She didn't snap at him as she might have been expected to – they were both bad-tempered and on edge with their agitation, and it was growing as the full weight of their helplessness sunk inexorably on top of them.
Two hundred metres away Will and Lyra were walking together, hands close but not quite touching. Their daemons flew overhead, dove-shaped; Pantalaimon dark as the sky behind him and Kirjava a very pure white, with a neat trimmed crest of dark red feathers. An unfamiliar aura enveloped their people below; it was like that queer, self-conscious silence when you want to talk but feel you must wait for the other person to begin. Lyra wanted to open her mouth, but knew that if she did only nonsense would come out, for how could one long so much to talk and yet know nothing of what they wanted to say?
It was easier for Will, if only a little: he knew what he wanted. What he wanted was Lyra, just Lyra, no one else, but he wasn't sure why or how to tell her or even if he should. Kirjava was a puppet to his agitation, flying in ever-increasing circles, leaving a bewildered Pan to stare bemusedly after her.
Finally Lyra broke the stillness vibrating uneasily around them, muffling their movements and voices, and whispered, "Will…we…have to talk. I-" She broke off, looking confused.
He met her eyes, and saw them widen.
"I have to tell you something," he said quietly, and felt suddenly guilty at his own feelings, at the excitement that had briefly flared when she had whispered, we have to talk.
Queer interval of silence. She looked down at the ground; looked at her fingernails; looked at her daemon - anywhere but at him. "…I know."
"You do?"
"At least, I…I think I do. Because I…I knew, when we on the mountain and you were talking to Pan, I knew then that…I…" She looked up to meet his eyes again.
And suddenly it was if she had been shown a mirror of her own face, because she knew the longing and the want she could see in his eyes were reflected in her own, only it wasn't reflected-
…………
"The Dust!" Kaisa exclaimed suddenly, and Serafina was so unused to hearing him surprised or indeed show any loss of his composure that it was several moments before she realised who had spoken.
There was a flash of golden light, leaving minuscule yellow orbs winking in her vision, and she took a step back involuntary.
"What is it doing?"
"I don't know." He was calm again already, flapping over to her. His tone, previously tight with urgency and astonishment, was now sedate. One had to keep up appearances.
"It's stopped, hasn't it?"
"Yes, I think so." Serafina's cascade of fair hair was blown back by the draught created by the movements of his wings, as Kaisa pushed himself up until he was hovering at just above head level.
"This is amazing," his witch marvelled. "What could have caused it?" As she spoke they were both hurrying towards where they had last seen Will and Lyra.
"Ah." Kaisa flapped back, black eyes bottomless and devoid of expression. "I might have guessed." There was a slight hint of scorn sharpening his voice.
"What-" On seeing what her daemon had just seen, Serafina drew back, a small, slightly sad smile on her face, and beckoned him away. "It had to happen sometime."
"They're in love." There was definitely a sort of derisive scorn in his tone now.
"Of course."
…………
"Ye Gods." The spirit of the Millennium Ring got slowly to his feet, a little less elegantly than usual. "It seems that, after all that has happened, I have still underestimated you."
"It's all right." Ryou watched as his yami brushed himself down. "Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to. I was actually holding back as much as I could-" He was starting to babble.
Bakura raised an eyebrow at his last sentence, but gave vent to nothing more than a crisp, "Indeed."
"Are you certain I didn't hurt you?"
"Yes, I'm certain. But I think that will be enough for one day."
Ryou gave an embarrassed grin, but said nothing.
The almost obscenely cheerful doorbell could be heard ringing its persistent donging through the house.
"I'll get it." Bakura crossed over to the lounge door. There was the sound of the door being opened, and his light heard him say, "I thought you weren't allowed out?"
"It's never stopped me before." Malik stepped in, and said, "What have you been up to? Your hair looks even more erratic than usual."
The spirit scowled, devil-horns waving comically as he turned and gestured at the lounge door. "Just get in there before I phone your sister."
"You'd better not. I'm supposed to be grounded."
"Why?" Ryou questioned curiously as he made his way across the room to greet him.
"Well, after listening to my various excuses about where I'd been for the past two weeks, she decided I had run away and told me I was grounded for making her so worried."
"Oh dear."
Malik shrugged, completely unconcerned. "It isn't a big deal. She'll get over it. So, what have you two been up to? And why does Bakura look as if he's just been to the Shadow Realm and back?"
"He's been teaching me how to use my powers," Ryou explained, as his yami shot Malik a dirty look.
"Oh. Cool." The Egyptian still sounded nonchalant, but there was an undercurrent of wariness in his voice. "What can you do?"
"So far: just summoning Duel Monsters and shielding." Ryou gave his other a wicked stare, unaware of how like his yami he looked. "I think I tired him out."
The spirit settled for folding his arms and glaring warningly.
"Do you want anything to drink?"
"Something with alcohol in, if you have any."
"I live in this house too. Of course there is alcohol."
Affectionately: "See, this is why I miss you, 'Kura."
"Just because you live with someone who can see the future and therefore knows instantly if you've sneaked beer into the house?"
"Something like that."
Ryou shook his head to himself and headed into the kitchen.
He wasn't sure exactly where his yami kept the alcohol, but knew he had several storage places for it in case Ryou ever took it into his head to try and confiscate it all. In reality this would never happen, as Ryou would never waste his time on a task so hopeless – it was almost as bad as asking his yami exactly how many pointy objects he owned.
He decided his best bet was to try the fridge first and, failing that, the loose floorboards in his room.
Luckily there was no need, as a quick search of the fridge yielded a crate's worth of beer. There were also copious amounts of vodka, of which his yami had warned him that if he so much as looked at them, he would be polishing the Ring for the rest of his life. Ryou wasn't sure why he had said this – he didn't really have much interest in vodka anyway. It wasn't bad with coke, but otherwise didn't seem to have much taste. Wine was much nicer – at least it tasted of something else apart from firewater. He suspected that this was why his yami hated it.
Ryou pulled out a pack of beer, then decided he was being wildly optimistic if he expected his yami and Malik would only consume four cans between them, and took out another. He turned, laden with beer, and his mouth opened in a silent scream. The packs of beer fell unheeded from his arms.
"How clumsy." Someone bent down and caught them all before they hit the ground, someone with reflexes so quick that they retrieved the packs barely after they had left Ryou's arms.
"It would have been such a waste of beer." The person deposited them in Ryou's arms again, keeping one back. He turned it from side to side, examining it. "At least the Tomb Robber has good taste." The can was opened and knocked back like water.
During all this, Ryou simply stared. After a minute he realised his jaw was hanging open and closed it. After another minute he realised he was still holding the packs of beer, and dumped then back down on the counter.
"…What are you doing here?" The words, barely discernible, came out in a hoarse whisper.
"What, like I can't drink someone else's beer if I want to?" Yami Malik tossed the can in the bin without looking at it. "Ra, not even a weakling like you could get pissed on that crap. It's no wonder the Tomb Robber can drink so much of it." He regarded the packs with scorn. "Hasn't he got anything stronger?"
A high-pitched sound.
"The fridge, right?" He crossed over and opened the door. Ryou watched as he surveyed its contents with disparagement, before his gaze fell on the vodka. "Hmm."
"You can't touch that!" Ryou gasped suddenly, shaken out of his fear. "My yami will kill me!"
A shrug. "Then it will save me having to do it, won't it?"
Ryou watched, hypnotised, as the yami poured himself a glass of Bakura's vodka. "What the hell are you waiting for, for me to toast you or something?" He drunk it, gave a small sigh of satisfaction, and placed the glass back down. "Now that's more like it."
Ryou let out a squeak and, turning around, made a dash for the door. There was a muffled whoosh and Yami Malik appeared in front of him, blocking his path. He had covered the distance in less than a second. "I'm not that boring, am I?"
"N-No…"
"Goodie." He sounded genuinely pleased.
Ryou suddenly noticed that he was slurring his words, very slightly. "You're drunk." And he realised what a stupid thing he had just said.
"No I'm not. The alcohol just makes me high. But that's okay. For you, anyway. I'm not so violent when I'm high."
"Oh." Ryou had still decided that he was going to get away from him as quickly as possible.
"That is, unless you make me angry. And I get angry pretty quickly."
The light had already made up his mind that he was in a dream. The feeling of surreality was already there. And there was no way that he could be talking to Malik's yami, who everyone called a psycho, and still be in one piece.
(Y-)
His vision swam and he reached blindly for something to hold on to. Dimly, he realised that Yami Malik had just kicked him.
"Idiotic weakling. You try that again and I won't bother with all this talking bullshit, I'll just kill you."
"Why-"
"And I'm only talking to you in the first place because I find you more interesting than the rest of the weaklings in this Ra-damned city. But if you're just going to scream for the Tomb Robber I may as well just get rid of you now."
Ryou stared blankly at him, while his mind raced to think what Yami Malik could possibly find interesting about him. Oh, wait, he knew. His shadow powers. Great.
Sudden thought: Since he finds them so interesting maybe I could give him a demonstration. Say, trapping him in the Shadow Realm?
Out loud: "I'm not going to scream for help."
"Good." The spirit poured himself another glass before perching on the edge of the dishwasher, legs crossed. Between sips: "Don't get the idea that I like you or anything. You may have shadow-powers, but you're still really annoying. And I'm still going to get you one day. Probably not today, though. I'll wait until you and your powers have grown. Then maybe we can have a face-off. That would be exciting. Or maybe I'll get you from behind. Depends what I feel like at the time."
"Thanks for the warning."
"Don't you get smart with me." Yami Malik stared moodily into his glass, but his eyes weren't following the swirl of the liquid. They were staring fixedly at a point near the bottom, unwavering almost to the point of looking glazed. There was a look of such complete and utter blankness in his eyes that Ryou actually started to feel worried.
The word that defined what Yami Malik was in right now was catatonia, but that was really only a metaphor because there was no way of describing it, other than he had completely blanked. And something of this communicated itself uneasily to Ryou: that perhaps Malik's yami had slipped even further into the fantasy worlds which he had built around himself; or maybe that he wasn't even at that level of consciousness, that perhaps he was in his own private oblivion and might stay in it forever.
Or he might come out at any moment.
He did.
Looking up slowly, an expression of faint surprise just visible on the sharply pointed features, as if astonished that the world was still there. And when he spoke his words were even more slurred, as if part of him were still in the blankness.
"You don't half stare at people."
Ryou mumbled an apology and looked at the ground.
"How old are you?"
He blinked; looking up, he said uncertainly, "Sixteen, why?"
"Because-" At the pause Ryou thought he must have blanked again, but he realised after a moment that Yami Malik was simply toying idly with his glass, which was now empty. "-Because as you mature your powers will too. Sixteen. Hmm. Not too bad."
"What?"
"Just trying to work out how strong you'll get. I don't want you to be stronger than me. If you're going to end up stronger than me I may as well kill you now." He continued to rock the glass from side to side. "So. Maybe three or four years before they reach their peak. It might be close. But then again, it might not. And I'm far more experienced than you anyway." His voice suddenly took on a dreamy tone. "You might be able to kill people just by thinking about it."
"Oh God."
"Never going to fall asleep again?"
"I don't sleepwalk anymore," Ryou snapped.
"You don't have to. Imagine if you had a nightmare, and in it appears the Tomb Robber, or my hikari, or the Pharaoh's Pet. And imagine they tried to kill you or something. It's a nightmare; anything could happen. And say you were so frightened you wished they would die, just for a second. And then you wake up and you find the Ring is gone."
Ryou trembled.
Yami Malik was giggling, the sound made all the worse for its hysterical note partially caused by the vodka. "Oh, your face. You look terrified." He was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Not a problem, seeing as he was immortal, but still disturbing to witness.
Ryou was shivering uncontrollably, lost in thoughts of what he might end up doing just because of a second's rash thought. What if he did end up killing someone that way?
Suddenly Yami Malik's laughter was abruptly cut off, and Ryou looked up to see he had become transparent, just as Bakura called from the hallway – "You living in that kitchen?"
Ryou's heart nearly stopped as he spied the empty glass and half-finished bottle of vodka, and almost without thinking he shoved the glass in the sink and the bottle in the fridge, just as his yami appeared.
Remember, you tell him I'm here and I'll kill him first. Then you.
Ryou looked at him uncertainly. What did you do?
Reverted to my spirit form. I confess I had rather hoped you would be able to see me. Normally only my own light can. But it seems your talents are not purely shadow-based.
The light had less than a second to ponder on this, before Bakura looked at him sharply and said, "What the hell were you doing in here? You've been here nearly twenty minutes."
"I…"
"For Ra's sake, I didn't hide the beer that well. Wait, you looked in the fridge though, right?"
He nodded.
"I never keep the best stuff in there anyway." The Ring-spirit opened it, and Ryou looked in a panic at Yami Malik, who gazed impassively back.
Your problem.
"Yami, w-wait. I took out the beer already-"
"Yes, but by now I need something stronger." He started running his eye over the bottles, and Ryou was certain his heart had stopped by now, and that he was about to asphyxiate.
"…Wait."
Ryou shook as his yami straightened up. "One's missing."
Does he bloody well keep a count of each one? the teenager thought in belated horror.
"…Ryou, what the hell is this?" Bakura slowly withdrew the half-empty bottle.
"It…it's a bottle."
He was grabbed by the hair. "I know it's a fucking bottle; don't try and be clever. Why is it only half-full?"
"…I…"
He isn't very nice towards you, is he? Tut tut. And he's supposed to have changed as well. Maybe I should get him off you?
Leave him alone!
As you wish.
"…I…drank it."
Bakura loosened his grip and Ryou stepped out of reach, wincing. The yami stared at him, suspicion lacing his words like poison.
"You drank vodka? Straight from the bottle?"
"Y-Yes." He prayed his yami wouldn't look in the sink.
Bakura pulled him closer, by the shirt collar this time, so that their faces nearly touched. After a moment his eyes narrowed. "You don't smell like you've been drinking."
"…I had some gum afterwards."
Bakura shoved him backwards in disgust. "Don't lie to me, hikari. Or at least have the guts to do it properly. You did not drink my vodka. Correct?"
"Y-Yes."
"Good. So, what did you do with it? Chuck it down the sink?"
I should hope not. It tasted expensive. Not that he probably paid for it.
"No…"
"Then what happened?"
"…I…"
"We can do this for the rest of the day, light. Until you give me some answers. And after a while Malik's going to come in and wonder what the fuck is going on. And then I'll tell him. Or you can tell him. Because I'm going to find out what you've been doing."
Oh, are you?
Ryou was really wishing Yami Malik would shut up; it was bad enough trying to think of a reason why the bottle could be half-empty without being distracted by the spirit's comments. Although that was probably why he was saying them.
Then, as Bakura had predicted, Malik's voice floated through the room. "Is the beer going on a rampage or something? Or is there some other reason why you two have been in here for ten minutes?" He came in, violet eyes taking in Ryou, Bakura, and-
"Yami?"
The spirit looked up. Shit.
Then, a moment later: …Hello, hikari.
He then vanished.
"What…what did he do?" Malik whispered.
"Just…talked. And drank some vodka." Ryou didn't know why, but he felt like laughing when he said it. It came out hysterical.
His yami said clearly, "Ryou, shut up."
Silence.
"So the Psycho was here? In my house? Drinking my vodka?"
"Y-Yes." Ryou was rapidly feeling as if he'd helped the spirit do it.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me? Instead of letting me get angry with you?"
"…He said he'd kill you if I told you."
"…I can beat that bastard," the spirit said very quietly. It sounded as if it were himself, and not Ryou, who he was trying to convince. Then, in a more normal tone: "Why didn't you send him to the Shadow Realm? You could easily have done it."
"…I…wasn't sure if I could have done it."
"You could at least have tried, instead of just standing there!" his yami exploded. The thought of The Psycho drinking his best vodka while his light watched was obviously putting him in a furious mood. "But no, you have to watch him do it, just like the useless little fu-"
"I'm sorry!" Ryou yelled back at him. "I know you think I'm a coward and you're right, because I am! I didn't do anything because I was scared of him and because I didn't want him to hurt you! So I'm ever so sorry and next time I'll make sure I tell him to go to hell just so you have something to get pissed with on the next night!"
Silence again.
"Look, it isn't about the vodka. I can get plenty more of it. What's pissing me off is-" Bakura suddenly stopped. "Ra, I don't even know what is pissing me off anymore. Something about the fact that you would lie to me about the Psycho being two metres away because you think that the alternative is him sending me to the Shadow Realm. I'm not that easy to get rid of."
Malik yawned. "From what I can work out, it's pretty simple: your pride has taken a bit of a bashing. Must be quite a new sensation for an egotist like you. And now that you've finally worked out that Ryou hasn't done anything wrong, which we all knew ages ago, why not just apologise to him and go steal some more vodka?"
Bakura shrugged, looking slightly ashamed. To Ryou: "I'm sorry if I hurt you. I didn't mean to. Well, I did mean to, but I regret it now."
"It's okay."
The spirit looked as if he wanted to give him an awkward hug, just to show that he meant it, but his eyes shifted to Malik and he gave an apologetic smile.
"I think I'll have to go now. Isis has already tried phoning my mobile twice. And-" He now looked extremely embarrassed. "I'm really sorry about my yami."
Ryou shrugged. "He isn't all that bad." At the disbelieving looks from the two Egyptians, he went on, "Well, apart from the death threats and the whole crazy thing. He could be worse. Although I'm not sure how."
They walked together to the front door, just as Malik's mobile phone rang again, belting out the tune to Linkin Park's Runaway. He looked at the screen and sighed. "Damn." On pressing the 'answer' option, they all heard the furious screech of Isis Ishtar screaming down the phone.
"Um, sis?"
"Where in the name of Osiris have you been? I was so worried! Get back home now!"
"Okay." He quickly disconnected her, wincing. "Definitely time for me to go."
"Someone's going to have a hard time when they get back."
"I'll be all right." Malik climbed on his motorbike, pulling on a helmet. "See you both some time."
"Sayonora."
He sped off, at a speed which was most certainly not legal.
Ryou and Bakura made their way back into the lounge, both awkwardly.
Slowly: "Aibou?"
"Ye- what? You just said the 'a' word. You never say that."
"I know. I thought I would give it a try."
"How does it feel?" Ryou asked curiously.
His yami pulled a face. "A bit strange. I feel really gay."
"Are you?"
"I don't think so, no. Anyway…aibou, do you want to do something together today? I can't think of anything much so we just could watch T.V or something."
"Okay. Whatever you want."
…………
A/N: (takes deep breath) THE END!!! Finally! And I'm really happy now because this chapter felt a lot better than the previous one, and I wanted to end with that feeling.
Ra, that had to be the most exhausting story ever. Over 70-damn-thousand words. I'm never doing a crossover again. Too tiring. And it restricts the plot too much. But still, I'm happy, and I'm going to savour that feeling because I don't get it a lot.