Hi, sorry there weren't any notes on the first chapter, I wanted to get it up fast. And I was afraid I would get flamed reaaaaaaaly bad for this story. I probably still will after a few more chapters. I never expected this to already be my second most popular story.

Thank you to -'-Chocolate-Coated-Chocobo-'-, flamethrowerqueen, Ayuka Ryou, T.Lei, and redconvoy for giving me the confidence boost I needed to put up this chapter. I think that five reviews are the most I have gotten in one day. I was so happy that I couldn't sleep very well that night and had to write another chapter. Sorry if it's a little confusing, it will make some more sense soon.

On with the show.

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To put it simply, Bakura panicked. Big time. His vessel, rented body, landlord, master, despised, hated, admired, deadly one, needed one, lay there unmoving for who knows how long, possibly dead or dieing. Bakura had no illusions about keeping Ryou's body if he died, he would just be thrown back into the ring for good, which would probably end up being hidden or destroyed. And he would, no doubt, be blamed for a murder on top of it.

He slammed life force into the body with such an urgency and impact, that it nearly fell off the desk. He managed to grab a fleeting spark of Ryou's spirit on its way out, all that was left, and bound it to the body, so that it couldn't leave even if this happened again. He did not want to die, couldn't just die yet, and so he needed Ryou alive. Truth be told, he also wanted Ryou alive. Dealing with him seemed to keep Bakura a tiny bit more sane, helped him focused on his 'mission'. He would probably never again find someone who needed to be used just as much as Bakura needed to use him.

When Bakura first came out of the ring he was just a tad suicidal, but in a roundabout way, as with everything he did. He had told Ryou that to break the figurines holding his 'friend's' souls would ensure their certain death. He called the figurines 'the vessels of their souls' and in practically the same breath made a reference to the millennium ring as the vessel of his own soul. He also made other subtle hintings, but Ryou didn't follow up on a single one, didn't even seem to think of them for a moment. Either Ryou was very dense, or just as crazy as Bakura in his own way. And Bakura wasn't opting for dense one with the grades that Ryou got. Eventually the will to survive, to live, overpowered him, so he cut out on all the hints and started concentrating on his new life.

Ryou's fleeting spirit seemed to notice the tug of the pinned down last piece as it pulled on that bit, and when it could not be freed, began returning to his body, slowly, reluctantly.

'He's fine now, thank...' Bakura's thought trailed off as he realized he had neither reason to nor wanted to thank either goodness or his gods. 'Still, he's in no condition to pilot a body. Or even be conscious. Sigh. Not again. This happens any more I'll have to remind him why he doesn't want to owe me any favors, and why he surely doesn't want this happening.'

Bakura softly slipped out of the ring and into Ryou's body, careful not to disturb the fragile, recovering spirit. He slowly sat up and looked around, as if he didn't care a whit about what was going on. And for the most part he didn't.

The one thing that he did care about, though, was that no one even noticed him, or that anything had happened. Not even the teacher, who was entrusted with the welfare of her students, had paused in her monologue for so much as a moment. It disgusted him.

'He could have died right here in front of their very faces, and no one would even have known or cared. I doubt that anyone would even have cried. So much for this whole friendship and I've-got-your-back-'cause-you're-my-bud concept that little master wants to believe in so fiercely. None of them truly care for anyone but themselves. And I, to have been perishing right along with him, so few even knowing I exist, and fewer yet caring.' He could barely hide the blazing hatred for the world that crept into his eyes, which kept switching from green to crimson to brown and back. That was the only part of him that betrayed any sort emotion, so he laid his head down on his desk, and waited for the end of the day.

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By the time the bell rang, Bakura had managed to get his eyes under control. He even had a few minutes to work on some fake-sincere smiles, which he had managed to get down pretty quickly, most likely because of muscle memory from all of Ryou's practice.

He was almost out the door and headed home, when who should stop him but the hypocritical pharaoh's modern day counterpart and the crazed peppy dancer wanna-be girl. (aka Yugi and Anzu)

(Author's Note- Please don't kill me for those last remarks. I'm not Anzu- or Yugi-bashing, that's just my opinion of what Bakura's opinion is.)

Yugi was handing out neon-bright fliers and Anzu was tying bright multicolored bracelets onto students' wrists as they passed her on their way out. Bakura put on his best dead-and-distracted-and-tired-and-not-quite-tuned-in-to-reality look, similar to ones Ryou would wear after a day of particularly long day of botherance or simple sorrows. The one that seemed to make him fade into the background and become invisible to passer-by. He didn't quite pull it off though, and was immediately stopped.

"Hey Ryou! Feeling better? Can we still count on your help for Mix-It-Up Day tomorrow? Or do you think you should stay home?" Anzu asked in a sing-songy voice that was way too chipper for any time of the day. Forcing himself to give them a look of interest, while inconspicuously groping for knifes that he wished for, but knew weren't there, Bakura resisted saying he thought that he should murder them all in their sleep, then yell in the pharaoh's face and ask him how it feels.

"Of course," he replied in Ryou's regular courteous manner, containing no trace of his bitter emotions. He flashed them a smile. "I always follow through on my promises." Remember that pharaoh, he mentally added. Remember that when you're sad and broken and alone, all alone with the shadows. He started to walk away.

"Wait!" He heard the cry from behind him. He whirled around to see Anzu holding one of her brilliantly colored pieces of useless frivolity. (aka a bracelet)

"You forgot this." She said waving it at him, before tying it solidly and tightly to his wrist.

"Of course, how silly of me." He responded, with a smile in his eyes and death in his heart.

"Don't forget to tell everyone where you got it. We need all the advertising we can for Mix-It-Up Day. Right, Yugi?"

"Yep, we want as many people as we can to come and celebrate, to meet new people and make new friends. That's the whole spirit of Mix-It-Up-Day."

"Sound's like a plan. See ya!" He said, omitting that he hoped it would be a very looong time before he saw them again. He waved farewell as he moved away quickly, before he could be stopped again.

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While he walked home, he pondered that something had to be seriously wrong in a world where people did not even realize that it was him, and not Ryou, with whom they were conversing and interacting. In the end he passed it off on people's general ignorance and apathy, increasing his despising and loathing for the world. He never considered even for a moment that maybe Ryou had changed since he came. Or that maybe it had been him who had changed and become different because of their meeting.

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There is another short chapter I have written, I just need to touch it up and add a few details, then I will post it when I get home from this trip. I'm stuck in the car for three hours with no internet connection at the moment, coming home from Thanksgiving with the family.

That's all, and I hope all you out there had a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday.