Hey! Sorry I haven't been able to update for a while, but I just wasn't inspired. Don't worry people, I don't want this story to end just yet so on with Chapter 6!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh. I mean, I wouldn't exactly be writing fanfiction if I did, would I? Duh… --

Emotional Combat

The house was motionless. In his own timezone, in Bakura's mind, movement seemed to become prohibited. He was sitting on the sofa, engulfed by the icy darkness that was enveloping his very being. His mind was blank, all thoughts, all traces of mind pattern vanished into what seemed like thin air. Tension hung in the air like a stale fog, echoing silently against the walls and panging against the body of the lone man.

Somewhere, in the deep caverns of his heart, something had died. He knew as soon as he hit that wall, but he refused to think of it. Refused all suggestions, rejected the very thing that had transpired. He knew he wanted to forget, but yet, his heart would not let it go and he did not want to find it. That part of him, he knew, had already died a long time ago, and he was not going to start searching for it now.

Or was he?

A tiny movement sent faint energy waves through the room, jolting a glimpse of life into the cold darkness. The movement had come from a lifeless crimson eye, a little blink. A blink to hold back a tear, or maybe, something quite different.

More movement. It occurred until Bakura was standing on his feet, his head hung, the spiky white hair unusually drooped and little sounds making their way into the room. Bakura was furious with himself. How dare he make such a fuss over nothing. That's what it was. Nothing.

Nothing at all.

But he knew it wasn't. No, it was definitely something. A dull ache sprang in his heart, and a little trickle ran down his cheek. He moved his hand to get it away but instead, slapped himself across the face. Discipline. Discipline is the main emotion, there is no room for anything else. Fight them. Don't let them win. This lesson, an important one to him. He held back the tears that were threatening his face and clenched his fist tightly.

Discipline and violence. Attack is the best form of defence.

Is it?

Without thinking, he grabbed a wineglass from the nearby mantelpiece and threw it, smashing it into the wall, shards of glass falling to the ground. It seemed to glitter, even in the darkness. He breathed out heavily. Anger. Not the best emotion.

But it's better than sorrow.

'I don't know what to do, Lola.'

'What do you mean? Aren't you happy?' Lola and Ryou were lying on her bed, both on their sides and looking at each other intensely, his chocolate eyes boring into her head.

'No, you know that's not true.' Ryou smiled ruefully and looked away, towards the window. 'It's just, well, my flatmate will be worried, you know? I should get back and see him…'

A vacant expression formed across is face. Lola studied him before deciding her next move.

'Your flatmate?'

Ryou came out of his trance and looked again at Lola.

'Yes. You know, the guy I told you about… Bakura, yes, Bakura.'

Lola gazed at him. Unanswered questions filtered into her mind, but she put them off. Deciding on one question, she once again opened herm mouth to speak.

'Where was your flatmate when I found you bloody and injured on the floor?'

DAMN! She cursed herself mentally and looked away. It hadn't come out as she'd intended it to sound. It sounded harsh, accusative, questioning. And although this was the exact tone her question was taking, she knew Ryou didn't deserve it. He wouldn't handle it.

Ryou's heartbeat quickened against his chest and he forced a smile to come across his face.

'Oh. You know… probably out… he's um… out a lot… see… I…'

Ask him if he's hurting him! Ask him! Lola's instincts screamed at her to question this, but bit her tongue just in time.

'Oh. Okay.'

Another mental slap across the face. Way to go, loser. Her conscience scolded her harshly. Not like you're dumb or anything.

Ryou smiled at her and turned back towards the window, another look of vacancy spreading across her face. And Lola began to wonder, whether his own life was as perfect as it had seemed.