Notes: Hello and I am indeed deeply sorry for the lateness of this chapter and in repentance it's rather long in comparison to the two before it; so have fun and I know you all know what the rules are and what I am SUPPOSED to say and am artfully neglecting to do so.

Also: This is dedicated to Saak-chan and SnowIce, first off lovely little sister Saak-chan; love ya but update! I need more T.T and to beloved SnowIce being a very sweet being you are I am also dedicating this to you but you knew that didn't you?

Begin

"Hello Mokuba" Ryou looked up when the smaller boy walked into the room, Mokuba slipped in and smiled- with his face lighting up in a look of excitement his cheeks were more vivid; he almost looked normal. He was easily balancing Ryou's plate of food, today it was ham and eggs -a normal breakfast, complete with the orange slices, at least he was never hungry only cold.

"Good morning to you," Mokuba nodded at the boy as his hands were currently busy placing the food on the table, he knew very well that it wasn't morning, but he wasn't about to give away that little piece of information, in all meanings of the word it was morning. Morning was the start of a new day the end of a bad dream; or the end of a good dream it depends if you prefer the harsh reality over the sweet nectar of the dream gods. He looked at the steaming plate of food as Ryou sat down to eat; it was sweet smelling almost to the point of pain, its odour was different then his normal food, and he could feel his stomach lurch, he hadn't wanted food in many many years, his tastes were a little darker, who needs food when you can drink death and life at the same time? Drinking life beats ham every time- though it did look good.

"You look nice today," Ryou blushed slightly Mokuba indeed looked stunning today, his dress was long and of the softest of red satin deep almost like the colour of blood. It was long and the sleeves were tight until they flared elegantly at the ends showing flashed of small pale hands, the dress was full length hiding his body but tight enough around the waist and to show his small frame perfectly, his long neck wrapped in lace and silk, long hair left down to flow around him; a cape made of the night sky. Mokuba smiled at him,

"After you finish I brought something for you to wear as well, then I'm going to show you a new room" Mokuba giggled and left.

Ryou ate his food in silence, Mokuba made him feel uncomfortable at times; like there was something the boy was not telling him; some hardly restrained emotion; bleeding from the pores and yet contained in such a small body. And then there was times he liked that boy the best because he reminded Ryou of himself, but alas he did not know exactly why.

Trapped in the dream

A shudder traveled down his spine, he was not thinking about that dream, he was not thinking about it not thinking about it. He was most defiantly thinking about it. It had disturbed him on a level few other things did, it had seemed so real, like he could touch it, he could smell the flesh rotting away, like rotten fruit; kind of sweet kind of spicy …

Smell of death

"You there?" Mokuba was looking at him weird, his eyes gleamed and he held a large box effortlessly, Ryou jumped when he spoke.

"Umm yeah, I was thinking about things" Ryou flushed, he disliked it when they looked at him, eyes like spears entering his mind and cleaving it open, reading secrets and thoughts he didn't even know that he had.

"What things?" Mokuba was piling his empty plates, and not looking at him, long hair falling like a curtain that hid his face from view, effectively cutting off any way Ryou could have made eye contacts or even guessed what the other boy might be thinking.

"…I had a weird dream last night, a few of them actually" Mokuba stopped momentarily looking at him, was it his imagination or did those eyes look harder, like pure sapphires, cold as ice and just as unforgiving.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mokuba had piled the plates and was now busying himself with arranging the garments he pulled out of the box on the changing screen that was in Ryou's room.

"I guess…" Ryou had the feeling that Mokuba didn't want to talk about it but he really wanted to know what it meant, he wanted to know what it meant to die… what it meant to live; or was it that he lived to die?

"Well come here and try this on, then you can tell me." Ryou walked behind the screen and pulled his robe off shivering in the cold,

"I dreamed that I could see music…" Ryou frowned that was not what he meant but the feeling was indescribable, it was like being music, it was like his soul had melted away leaving him all alone, and he had been the music he had felt the emotions, he was the emotions. He had felt pain, deep deep pain, the pain of the loss of innocence; the pain of the dead without purpose, he had felt the hopelessness of the world around him. He had been the sun smiling cruelly as the world turned and the echoes of wails rose up from every living creature screaming from sorrow to deep to be mended. Then he had been the moon, full of sweet song easing to sorrows, reflecting the sun's smile, softer and at the same time colder more detached; the sweet undertone of hope had carried him around the world, when it was dark no one could scream- it would be muffled by the dark, there was always silence in the night. Night was when you could walk in a dream, the world seen though the soft eyes of the stars. "It was…beautiful, beautiful, but sad…."

"Was it?" Mokuba had his eyes closed, he knew the Master had played for him and, imparting emotions, thoughts ideas, ripening his brain till it was ready to accept fate. But still it had hurt, it always did; that is why none of them played the song, the song was their soul, their inner mind and that was something that belonged to them, to each his own pain. It was an unwritten law, the law was that pain would be hidden till the sun shone on you, then the truth would burn away all the hurt and it would be over.

"Then I dreamed I was flying away." Ryou had pulled on the undergarment, they were lacy and rather uncomfortable but he wore what was given to him, it was far to embarrassing to do any less, the long white lace stocking attached to the belts around his thighs, and he was pulling the long skirt on. "I flew over the trees, and flew into a city, it was beautiful, and the sun was rising,"

"Hmm" Mokuba sat on the couch with his electric blue eyes closed, he need only to wait, a little longer and he could ease the pain, touch the aching blue sky.

"I flew into a city, but all the people were…dead or dying, it was scary." Ryou shuddered the memory was fresh, I looked at my hands and I was slowly dying to!" Mokuba opened his eyes looking at the screen; he could just see the barest outline of the boy changing behind the curtain.

"So is the way of life, people die and those alive go on living as long as they can" Mokuba closed his eyes, so much, so much.

"…" Ryou was pulling the top on a struggling with the zipper that zipped up his back, all the way up under his hair, it was rather annoying… "Could you help me?" Ryou came out from behind the screen and presented his back to the smaller boy holding his own snowy white locks out of the way.

Mokuba looked at the expanse of smooth skin offered to him and licked his lips; it had been far to long… so long, but no. He grasped the zipper and closed the tight material over the other boy's torso. Ryou shivered when Mokuba touched him, so he wasn't the only cold one; Mokuba's hands had felt like ice when they brushed him.

"Thanks," Ryou twirled delighting in the way that the gauzy skirt flew out around him, as usual they had given him something in the purest white, white skirt, white top, the top was sleeveless and was akin to a corset, perfectly moulded to his chest and it went all the way up his neck. The skirt was long and flowed like water when he moved; he loved the feeling against his legs; like a soft caress. Mokuba gave him elbow high gloves to match his dress and white spiked heel boots, Ryou pulled them on; since he had come here he had gotten used to walking in unusual shoes, sometime they were flat normal, sometime he had to teeter around and embarrass himself before Malik would teach him the proper way to move. He spun for Mokuba who smiled, Ryou looked down at himself, he looked rather nice, from what he could tell that is, but he wondered if he looked quite as stunning as Mokuba, the dark red offset his pale skin in a beautiful way, like blood and cream; his blue eyes and deep black hair; the boy looked so familiar like a character from some movie- perfection.

"So where are we going?" Ryou walked out of the room after the shorter of the two boys, he had never seen any other room other then his own and the library.

"My favourite place…" Mokuba was slightly ahead of him, heels clicking in a rhythmic beat. Ryou frowned, that was a vague answer but all he ever got here were half answers, and more questions.

The halls twisted on forever and it seemed that there was no end in sight, trapped they would walk looking for an exit into an unknown world.

"This way" Mokuba took a sharp left into an ill-lit hallway that ended a few meters later. The pattern was slightly different but in essence it looked the same as the carving on the library door. It had a subtly different feeling the pattern was of an ocean, endless rolling waves, calm voices singing in a thousand small cries. Water, water everywhere and yet…so easy to drown, look into the wood, never surface live out life in the calm waters listening to a tale older then the land. "Come now" Mokuba snapped, and Ryou jolted looking guiltily away from the door, it was like a forbidden fruit he couldn't look too long or there would a price to pay.

Pass only at the price of your soul

Ryou ignored the thought and followed Mokuba through the delicately arched door into a room that was smaller then the library but seemed to fade off into infinity. The ceiling was arched and painted with the night sky, full glowing moon and delicate pinpoint stars, he recognized some of the constellations, look there was hotohori, he stared into them; you could also lose yourself into the subtle swirling design; this place was full of trap holes, small things that make you inch closer; beautiful things that seem harmless. Then you get closer and closer, the voices start whispering in your ear; 'stay with us, look into your own soul reflected in the depth of imaginary pools' and then you were caught; that is what true art is; as timeless as it renders the person unable to breath, unable to think or see.

"Isn't it pretty?" Mokuba threw out his arms and looked into the sky, he twirled and the stars twirled with him, Ryou smiled and watched Mokuba spin, his long skirts spinning with him; he looked almost like he was on fire, or surrounded by a light that came form the ground he walked on; some creature full of mystery and a strange unearthly beauty. Ryou happened to look past Mokuba at the wall behind him; there all along the walls pictures lined the room. From where he was he could not tell what the pictures were of, but they circled the whole room, hundreds of them maybe, blended with the wall so well it was hardly even there. He got closer; Mokuba was lost in his own dream world by this point.

He got closer and closer, the walls seemed alive, from far away the pictures all looked like just dark squares, a small flicker of colour here and there- a small flame battling and oppressive darkness. On closer inspection he realized that there were literally millions of colours in a single stroke; the colours all bled together, harmonizing until it looked like black, darkness turned into paint. He almost touched it but held his hand back; this one was of a boy sitting on top of a bench, he wore a uniform and was smiling out from the painting. This boy had long flowing hair that was being pulled by the almost visible hands of the wind, his face was smiling but it looked almost painful- pain smiling though the tears.

Ryou continued along the edges of the room; it was amazing, each painting was different, a different setting a different model. Each one was linked though, small things like a jar that shifted painting or a facial expression that mirrored the one before. These must have taken ages to make, all so delicate a stunning, each one clamoured for a piece of his heart a piece of his mind. He didn't know where he wanted to dive, and then he saw it, a different style from the rest, full of colour and a sense of reality or as close as things in the night ever got.

"…" Ryou looked closely at the painting the model was familiar, well that was a given, but he looked so different, Ryou glanced out of the corner of his eye, Mokuba had stopped spinning and was staring emptily into the stars, his expression was far far away; his mind on a totally different plane of existence. Still it was undoubtedly the same boy, long black hair, small graceful figure; it was quite clearly Mokuba. The eyes, the eyes were different; While Mokuba's were blue like an icicle, cold; harsh, the eyes that stared up at him from the painting were soft, -human- they glistened with unshed tears, and yet they looked hopeful, a mix of pleasure and fear. It was a look he had not seen anyone wear before, the flower in Mokuba's hand was vivid red, it stood out against his pure white flowing dress; a dress that looked almost like the one Ryou himself was wearing now. Picture Mokuba was standing in the light, his hair reflecting more blue then black and his eyes were almost as vivid and bright as the red flower he clutched in delicate hands.

"He drew that" Ryou squeaked when Mokuba was suddenly behind him, Ryou looked from the painting to the person, the painting was so life like. The painting seemed more real- there was emotion there- then the boy standing behind him.

"Who?" Ryou would have pinched himself for asking such a stupid question but he refrained.

"Ryuuji did," Mokuba smiled at the painting, he had indeed posed at the model for many of the paintings but this was the only one where it was actually of him. It was the first, the first painting that his love had ever done of him, it had captured his soul in it, took a part of his heart and mind and locked it away, mixed it in with the blue used to colour his eyes, the red to colour the flower.

"Oh," Ryou blushed at his own stupidity, he looked away; suddenly the silence that had fallen between them turned awkward and so Ryou moved on. There were paintings of Malik, his stood in a doorway, looking sulky at the painter; one of Jou- he was sitting on a big table in a room that Ryou didn't recognize smiling faintly at the viewer it was a weird expression, like he knew something that you didn't- Yugi's was there too, he had a long shiny instrument pressed to his lips and stood amongst a field of trees. There were more people he didn't recognize, a tall man with brown hair, another man with wild blond hair; and one more of a man with short white hair. He wondered if one of these people were Master? Before he could ask he was interrupted,

"Hey Mokuba!" Jou poked his head in the door and smiled at them, "Master wants us ALL in the front hall" Jou stressed the word 'all' and even went as far as to look at Ryou.

"Alright," Mokuba smiled back at Jou, he walked quickly out the door and surprised Ryou stumbled after him. He could sense that something big was about to happen but he could not quite grasp what.

Review and I will try even harder not to be late, but forgive me I have exams tomorrow and Thursday and Friday so I think there might a new chapter on the horizon