Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.
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-'

Tristan grabbed Ryō's arm in a grip harder than it looked when lunchtime came and pulled him out of the room, saying something about needing to copy his homework for the next class. Ryō let him. It wasn't like he wanted Yugi or the others to know what had happened, after all. They would do something about it.

Tristan hauled him up to the roof. It was cold enough and windy enough that no one was eating up there.

"What the hell was that about?" Tristan demanded.

Ryō blinked at him, once, languidly. His behavior now was markedly different from the way he'd been around Yugi and the others in class, and noticing this didn't make Tristan any more comfortable. "What do you think?"

Tristan shifted on his feet. "You're saying he's the one who got that money?"

"Mm-hm."

"Why!"

Ryō shrugged. "Why should I know why he does what he does?"

"Then why the hell'd you write that note?"

"Because he wanted to inform you," was the reply, and the switch was so fluid that if Tristan hadn't gotten used to Yugi and Yami's interchangeability he would have been startled. "He did try to warn you, but you didn't catch on."

Tristan had reflexively taken a step back, but now he snarled and stepped forward again, clenching his hands into fists. "What do you want?"

Bakura smirked. "You don't need to know just yet."

"Fuck you," Tristan snapped, grabbing a fistful of Ryō's collar and yanking up. "I'm not in your 'debt.' I'll get you the damn money back."

Bakura just continued to smirk, that faint curl of the lip that made him look in control of the situation even as Tristan was forcing him to balance his weight on the balls of his feet. "Because you did such a good job of that last time," he commented. Before Tristan could reply, he went on: "What do I care about the money? It's not like it belonged to my host."

"Then I don't owe you anything, do I? So why should I give a damn about your debt?"

"There is the matter of what the police would do if they found out. . . ."

Bakura refused to let his smirk slip, even for a second, but he did briefly raise an eyebrow when Tristan suddenly laughed. The brunet dropped his collar, and Bakura smoothly rocked back into a solid footing.

"You think you're the first idiot to threaten me with the cops?" Tristan asked, sliding his hands into his pockets with a carelessness that he really couldn't afford, as the Ring was still resting against Bakura's chest beneath his clothes. The thief let it slide, preferring to leave the brunet off-guard. "Go ahead. Try it."

Tristan sneered at Bakura with those last words, before turning and walking back to the access door. But turning his back made some of his caution return, though, and he pulled his hands out of his pockets again. The thief could see his fingers curled with a faint tension.

He remained in place as Tristan left.

When the access door closed, Bakura merely said, "Interesting."

Ryō had a hard time smoothing the wrinkles in his jacket back out before he returned to class.

——

That day after school, Ryō caught up to Joey. "Ah, Joey? Could I talk to you about something?"

"Sure, what?" the blond replied.

"It's about Tristan."

Joey looked over at him then, his features slightly harder. Ryō fiddled with the straps of his case. "What about Tristan."

"I . . . heard a rumor. It's probably crazy, but . . . I just wanted to make sure. I mean, he was acting really strange the past week, and . . . well. . . ."

"What'd you hear?" Joey interrupted.

"That he didn't earn that money," Ryō said, letting his voice drop. "He . . . stole it."

"Bullshit," Joey replied, relaxing again and stretching his arms behind his head before draping his backpack behind his shoulder. "I don't care what kind of trouble he got into, Tristan would never steal. It's just not him."

"Yeah . . ." Ryō said quietly. "Yeah. You're right. I didn't believe it, really. . . ." He trailed off, and then bit his lip as if remembering something that he didn't want to bring up. Joey noticed and asked what it was.

"Well, the guy who said that Tristan had stolen the money, he said that he was thinking about going to the police."

Joey laughed. Ryō made a note that both Tristan and Joey had had the exact same reactions.

"Let 'em try," Joey said. "Tristan's brother-in-law's a cop. He'll know better than to listen to those half-assed punks."

Ryō blinked. "Really?" he asked with genuine surprise.

"Yep," Joey nodded. "That's why he can shoot so good, y'know--the guy taught him how. And that's why he's never been charged, even when the races got busted. His brother always managed to pull a string or just get him out of the area."

"Really," Ryō repeated. "I never knew that."

"Well, duh," Joey said cheerfully as they stopped for a red light. "Not a whole lotta guys are gonna go around saying they're related to a cop. That's just askin' for trouble, right there."

Ryō smiled. "Good point."

Joey looked over at him. "Hey, who's the bastard talking about the cops, anyway? We'll fix him."

"I didn't see his face," Ryō replied sheepishly. "It was after Tristan left the library, and I was putting my homework back in my bag. I heard someone talking in the stacks."

"Hmph." Joey snorted. "Eh, it's their funeral if they actually try it. Don't listen to that crap about him."

"I won't," Ryō promised. "Thanks for telling me." When the light turned green, he turned back around. "I'll see you at school tomorrow!"

"Yeah, see ya," Joey called, heading down the crosswalk.