Um, hello, all... long time, no see, dahlins. I thought my fanfiction was long dead to be honest. But then you know what? out of curiosity, i went to see my reviews. And they motivated me to write at least another chapter. So thankyou everyone who reviewed, and I am dedicating this chapter to you, although it wont be one of my best, as my writing's a little rusty.

So, yeah, I'll just get on with it, shall i? yup...

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! Is mine, yes! ALL MINE! Muahahahahahahaha!

Chapter 5: Wrong Man


Purple clouds bellowed from a glowing, golden sphere, blinding the tens of thousands of people watching. The air was charged with a palpable excitement. A deep, rumbling thunder crack reverberated through the stadium, though it was the clearest night they'd had in weeks.

Bakura smiled. Trust Malik to invoke the powers of the Shadow Realm to give his concert a kick-start. Of course, most present assumed it was just wicked special effects, and the rest were too high to care.

There was an explosion and in a shower of shimmering, lilac sparks, Malik appeared at the mic. Bakura marvelled at how close he and Ryou were to the stage; the albino could even see the slight smile that graced the Egyptian's face as the crowed screamed their welcome, his noticeably bloodshot eyes sparkling devilishly.

He ran a finger along the microphone, as if welcoming an old friend. The other hand lightly skimmed the Millennium Rod. A howling wind ripped through the stadium, Malik's light blonde hair whipping about his face. He loved these theatrics. They were... magical.

"Helloooo London!"

Renewed screams erupted from the crowd. Malik laughed softly into the mic, and licked his lips. "Our first song tonight is dedicated to some lost friends of mine who turned up fifteen minutes ago. It's called 'Wrong Man'" His eyes flicked in Ryou and Bakura's direction as Nymph counted them in.

Amongst the frenzied screaming, a minute frown settled in place on a certain silver-haired Egyptian's mouth.


Seto shivered. He had stayed by his front door for hours, where he had originally dropped to the floor after slamming the door in his soul mate's face. It was now three o'clock in the morning. He hugged his knees close to his body, as much for warmth as comfort. His mind was in turmoil, his heart in shreds (again) and yet he hadn't shed a single tear. He had none left.

Seto Kaiba was not one to indulge in self-pity. However, enough was enough. After walking the earth for less than a quater of a century, he felt he had endured all he could take. He was not devoid of emotions, as most believed. Just every damned person in his life had, whether intentionally or not, shrivelled them into withered, black roses, no longer striving for the light.

Did he want Yami back? Hell yes. More than anything in the world. But he couldn't. His bruised heart had locked itself away in despair. "Yami..." he breathed, burying his head in folded arms.

"Why did you have to come back?"


There were Smirnoff's all round. Another great concert down. Psychyatryst had a reputation for being more than a little boisterous after their concerts, and tonight was no exception. Skip was still strumming away, amp's volume cranked all the way, spilling vodka all over the place.

"He's going to electrocute himself!" Ryou giggled. He hadn't stopped giggling since the little white line had disappeared up his nostril.

"He already has, how'd you think he got the hair?" Ryou giggled so hard he fell off the chair. Tears were streaming from already red eyes. His chest heaved and his lungs burned, but he couldn't stop laughing.

"I... ca... can't breathe!" He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the next onslaught of hysterics. Bakura leant over his light, and pulled him up off the floor, holding his shaking body. Still giggling, Ryou looked at him in surprise.

"Take it easy," Bakura warned softly.

Suddenly there was a crash, and a loud bang. Everyone turned to see Malik staring at the fireplace, which had literally exploded. Tiny flames were licking at the carpet. Skip ran to get water, followed quickly by his brother, who ran to stop him getting water.

"What did you just do, Malik?" asked Ryou politely.

He shrugged. "Threw my half-empty bottle in there."

"Funny, I'd have said it was half-full," RJ grinned, reappearing at the door with a towel to smother the burning carpet. Ryou collapsed into another fit of giggles, holding on to Bakura's shirt for support.

"Ryou, I don't think I'm ever letting you near heroin again." Bakura said to his light. There was no response. Looking down, he discovered his boyfriend asleep, or unconscious, in his arms. Sighing, he lay him down on the sofa.

"Couldn't take it, huh? He'll be right, that stuff is pure." RJ assured him, sucking on a burnt finger. "Bloody hell Malik, you psycho."

"It matches your tattoo, RJ" Bakura remarked, earning a smile. "Oh, what does RJ stand for, by the way?"

"That, my friend, is something you will not get out of me, ever. Unless you get me exceptionally sloshed."

"What a brilliant idea!" Malik brandished several bottles of spirits at them. "May I propose a game?"


Yami wandered around the streets, entirely unsure of where he was. Not that he gave a shit. In his five years in Egypt, the only thing that kept him alive and fighting was Seto. He had been alone with naught but his memories, and the hieroglyphic mentions of the Ancient Pharaoh and his Priest to keep him sane; he wasn't sure it had worked, either.

He'd been so excited, knowing he could come back. He had discovered so many things about his past and his powers, and he couldn't wait to tell Seto. To hold him in his arms and tell him tales of an eternal love that spread across three millennia.

Why had he thought Seto would welcome him back with open arms? Yami had hurt him; he could see it in those beautiful cerulean eyes. You're a coward, a voice spat in his head. A filthy coward. You don't deserve him.

"I know," Yami whispered under his breath. "Oh Ra... Why did I come back?"


"You bloody wank, you cheated." Bakura poked Malik with the neck of an empty bottle. They sat amongst a mass of unconscious bodies; Bakura would have worried about alcohol poisoning, but right now he doubted he could even spell it.

"And you didn't use Shadow Magick once, did you? You're just an amazing human being who can survive drinking a whole bottle of tequila and half a bottle of vodka, not to mention the several Smirnoff's downed earlier, the smack before the concert and the pot you had before you came. You should be dead, Bakura."

Bakura looked awestruck. "Fuck, I should."

"I'm glad you're not."

The albino snapped to attention. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Whatever you think it should," Malik leered slightly, before taking another swig from his bottle.

Bakura's brow furrowed. "Malik.. At your concert... that song..?"

Lilac eyes were fixed upon chocolate. "What of it?"

"Did that have anything to do with me and Ryou?" Subtlety is not a strong point of a drunken Bakura.

"And what if it did?" He edged closer, a strange light in his eyes.

"Just answer the question, fool."

"Okay. Yes. Ryou is a stupid weak bastard. I want you." Malik was so close now, Bakura could see the little clumps in his kohl lines. He knew what was coming. He felt dizzy, and closed his eyes, expecting to taste Malik's lips on his own, knowing he wanted it more than he should.

Instead, a tongue licked a sensitive little spot on his neck, before teeth descended on it and Malik sucked, hard. Bakura, in a moment of weakness, yelped. The singer laughed.

"And you want me, too."

Bakura searched the purple irises; could see Malik searching his own. The same drunken lust and desire reflected in each man's eyes. Malik touched his lips to the other's.

And this time Bakura kissed him back.


There we have it. Another chapter, FINALLY! I'm sorry, i really am. Year 11 extension mathematics is killing me; especially our teacher, who talks like a whale.

Next Chapter: Limey stuff.

Drop a review on the way through; perhaps it wont take me months to update this time...