Authoress' Note: Slight language in this chapter, so please don't read if you're offended.
A small desk lamp cast a solitary beam of light that pooled on the bed. Tea sat cross-legged within its confines and paged, stubbornly, through a large encyclopedia. She stared at a colorful picture of a courtyard of an ancient Egyptian palace, willing something, anything to feel familiar. Twenty minutes later she gave up, scoffing at herself. "What did you expect? To be able to go around correcting history books?" Tea lay back against the headboard, concerned by the numbness she felt. Now that the initial shock of partially regaining her memories had worn off, the only thing she felt was fatigue. She carefully placed the book on her nightstand and unfolded her stiff legs. Just as she did, a set of memories from her previous childhood planted themselves in her consciousness. Tea watched herself playing with a brindle greyhound… furtively trying on her mother's crown jewels… sitting in her father's lap while he read to her. Paradoxically, she felt every emotion, every sensation, but at the same time was oddly disconnected from the events. As the stream abated, Tea realized she was sitting on the floor. She stood up, shakily, and blew out a deep breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The girl suddenly realized that the customary wave of nausea had not come, but now a different kind of pain wracked her stomach. She had not eaten since very early that morning, and her body's needs had been overshadowed by her stunning revelations. Tea gave in to her stomach's pleas and quickly walked into the kitchen. She headed straight for the freezer and pulled out a pint of chocolate-chip cookie-dough ice cream. It had always been her ultimate comfort food and the one she turned to when she needed to do some serious thinking. Not even bothering with a bowl, Tea plopped down on the couch and alternated sweet spoonfuls of ice cream with equally delicious thoughts of Yami.
The spirit himself walked slowly home through the darkness. He had put up mental blocks, effectively barring even Yugi from his thoughts. Yami felt bad for shutting out his other half, but he needed time to be truly alone. He had to decide upon a strategy for helping Tea. Yami allowed himself a brief smile at this; he really needed to stop regarding everything as a game of Duel Monsters. He didn't feel rejected, exactly, but Tea's refusal had still stung. "Stop it!" he chided himself, "She doesn't remember everything you do. You're lucky she still loves you at all." The spirit heaved a sigh as he realized he was going around in circles. He opened his mind to Yugi, hoping he would have some helpful insight. As he did so, a wave of anxiety washed over him, and his guilt increased further. "I'm sorry I had to do that." he said telepathically to Yugi. The apology was readily accepted and Yugi said, "I take you don't have any idea what to do." Yami nodded miserably, then quickly thought, "None." when he realized that the other could not see him. Yugi continued, "Knowing Tea the way I do, she's probably really confused right now. My advice is to give her a little space, but let her know you're there." The thought of not spending every second possible with newly revived love made Yami want to kick something, but the wisdom of the words swiftly sunk in. "Thank you." he said simply. His shoulders slumped, and he once more became engrossed in his thoughts. Had the pharaoh not been so distracted, he would have noticed a dark figure skulking behind a pile of trash on the opposite side of the street.
Bakura sneered in distaste at the odious reek his hiding place was giving off, but grudgingly admitted its utility. He had been enjoying his jaunt through the city, and was irritated when he spotted that bastard pharaoh coming up the street to ruin his fun. But the tomb robber rapidly realized that his nemesis was not paying him any attention in the least. Torn between relief and resentment at having been denied a confrontation, Bakura dove behind a convenient mound of what he now realized were bags of used kitty litter. Yami passed, and Bakura gloated internally when he saw that the pharaoh was obviously disturbed. He was dragging his feet, and the spirit of the Ring was rapidly becoming irritated with the slow pace. Bakura had to struggle to keep his nervous energy from erupting as a yell when he felt something firmly brush against his leg. He whipped his head around to look at the mysterious presence. A small tabby cat, obviously well fed, stared back at him with bright yellow eyes. "I bet you're the one who made this place smell like shit." he sneered mentally. Just as Yami rounded the corner, Bakura stood and nonchalantly kicked the cat into a wall. He didn't give it a second thought as he ambled up the street in the opposite direction the pharaoh had passed.
The boy huddled in a small, gloomy corner of his soul room and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Ryou had been forgotten as soon as he was pushed inside, and he observed Bakura's "fun". It made him physically ill to watch. Especially the cat. He had wanted to cry then. He had been doing that a lot lately, it seemed. Ryou hated being stuck, helpless, in the cursed object that had brought Bakura into his life in the first place. He had tried to fight, oh God how he tried. But in a battle of wills, the pure, innocent Ryou had been no match for Bakura's twisted, demonic mind. He was reduced to a shivering lump every time the spirit emerged, and he loathed himself for it. Suddenly, Bakura appeared in front of him. "Speak of the devil…" Ryou thought, savoring the irony. "Having fun, little one?" Bakura said. "Just thought I'd check up on you." The innocent one tried, unsuccessfully, to keep his face stoic. The spirit leaned down and carefully scrutinized his terrified counterpart and, to Ryou's surprise, swiftly turned to leave. As he started to dematerialize, Bakura threw back over his shoulder, "I just wanted to make sure I could get down that pathetic look of yours." Ryou blinked a few times in confusion, then curled up in a ball to try to discern whatever horrible plot Bakura had concocted.
The spoon went flying across the room as Tea jumped. She had been so lost in thought that the sound of the doorbell had sent adrenaline coursing through her veins. She calmed herself and walked into the foyer, hoping to see…….she didn't want to admit whom she wanted to see, lest her hopes be dashed. Hurriedly pushing back her hair, Tea pulled open the door and gasped. Before her stood Ryou, his face bruised, his arms bloodied. His large brown eyes filled with tears as he said, "Oh, God….Tea please help me."
Authoress' Note: No animals were harmed in the writing of this chapter. Seriously, I feel horrible about that cat.