Chapter 2

"Conscience's Guidance"

Bakura could only stare. The boy looked so terribly familiar. His face, his eyes…the sight brought back too many memories. Painful memories that he had been trying to bury for the past seven years. Memories of a former enemy who had gradually won his friendship. Memories of a friend who had died much too soon, who'd left them much too suddenly, barely having time for a final good-bye. And memories of the days proceeding his death. Those long, dark days where he could not do anything but relive those final moments…over and over again…

"Bakura? Hey, Bakura! Hello!" Bakura snapped out of his painful trip down memory lane to look at the young teen who was trying to get his attention. Ikari was looking at him with a funny looked on his face. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no," Bakura muttered distractedly. "Er…who's that kid over there? Why isn't he over here with everyone else?" he asked in what he hoped was an offhanded tone, nodding towards Yami's look-alike.

"Oh, him? He hasn't got a name. Kid's been here for three months and hasn't said one single word. You talk to him, and all he does is glare at you. We call him Shadow, 'cause he always seems to be in a dark corner somewhere. Silent as a mouse, too. I've never seen him smile, or make any other kinds of facial expression. It's like he doesn't exist most of the time. Kenya over there claims he once saw the kid smile when he was telling him a story about some Egyptian king, or something, but I think that's all a bunch of bull sh-"

"Watch your mouth, kid," Koji interrupted. "And he can hear you, you know." By now, Bakura had figured out that he was the one in charge here.

Ikari rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Like he's going to do anything. Anyway, the guy who brought him here said he came from an abusive foster home. Said that he's been in foster care and orphanages forever, and that he seems to have the worse luck with them, ending up in an abusive one every time. It makes sense. Certainly explains why he's so damn quiet and seems to hate everyone."

"He's real young too, only around six or so. Usually, the young ones always get adopted first. No one knows anything about his family or background," a boy with flaming red hair added softly, looking towards the aforementioned child with a deeply sympathetic gaze. "He's been hurt bad, physically and emotionally. You can tell."

Bakura nodded. He tried not to stare, but his gaze kept drifting back to Shadow. Fitting name he thought, a soft smile creeping unconsciously onto his face. The child was oblivious to the white-haired teen's gaze. He stared at the fire for a while, the crackling flames reflecting in his bright crimson eyes, before putting his chin tiredly on his knees and closing his eyes, drifting off into a light slumber.

For a while, Bakura watched the child sleep. Exhaustion finally took over. Looking around, he realized most of the other boys had already succumbed to their tired bodies. Ikari had somehow curled up against him without his noticing. Bakura sighed, and leaned back against the couch. Weariness overcame him in a wave, and he quickly fell into sleep's warm embrace.

a/a/a/a/a

Bakura was rudely awakend the next morning by the songs of birds outside. Very loud songs. Very loud and annoying songs. He had a sudden urge to get up and send some birds to the shadow realm. But when he tried to move, he found he couldn't. Looking down, he found the source of his immobility: Ikari had somehow ended up sleeping on top of the older teen. The kid was using Bakura's stomach as a pillow.

Bakura rolled his eyes, and had to stifle a traitor smile that was attempting to jump onto his lips and declare to the world that yes, Bakura, the spirit of the millennium ring, knew how to give a genuine smile. The blond reminded him of his hikari. It had been years since he last saw Ryou, who was attending college in England.

As if sensing Bakura's gaze on him, Ikari opened his eyes. Yawning widely, he sat up and stretched, then rubbed his sleep-fogged eyes.

Within half an hour, all the other orphans were up, and the place got very loud. Last night's storm had dumped a couple inches of snow on the ground. It'd have been more if it hadn't rained first, but no one was complaining. All the boys were racing to get outside and play. Soon, everyone expect Bakura, Koji, and Shadow (who hadn't moved from his corner) was outside. Snowballs were sailing back and forth, and screams of joy-and sometimes pain-echoed through the crisp winter air.

Bakura watched all this through a window from within the warm house, where he was safe from the risk of being smacked with a hard glob of the evil, icy stuff called snow. As he said, he wasn't too fond of being wet or cold, and playing in the snow would mean being both. Koji sat beside him, offering a silent but comfortable companionship.

"Why don't you go outside?" Bakura asked curiously.

Koji shook his head. "No thanks. I'm not too fond of snow myself. Which reminds me, how the heck are you going to get back home?"

Bakura groaned, the events of the night before slamming back to him full force. "I forgot about that. And I'm all out of gas."

"Don't you have any spare?"

At his, Bakura could do nothing but gape at his new friend, furiously berating himself for his own stupidity. Of course! The spare! Seto had adamantly and personally made sure he had been well equipped with a thankful of gasoline, because, as the CEO had put it, he 'didn't fancy having to pick up an idiot who ran out'.

"You do, huh?" Koji grinned, guessing the truth by the expression of disgust on Bakura's face.

Bakura scowled at him, warning him to drop the teasing. "Yes, and I should be leaving soon. I need to get home. A friend of mine said he'd be dropping by tomorrow, and it's going to take me hours to find the main road again. Where is this place, anyway?"

"How should I know? You'll just have to trust your instincts. Better get started, man. Snow's not that deep, you'll make it."

Trust your instincts my ass, Bakura thought sourly. If his instincts were worth half a dime, he would have had the sense to not leave the house yesterday morning. Still, what was done was done, andBakura could only take Koji's suggestion and set off a quickly as possible. Getting to his feet, he cast a sidelong glance towards Shadow, huddled in his little corner. A wave of pity rushed over him. The kid looked so…small, and vulnerable, so in need of protection. He couldn't help asking himself if there wasn't some special reason he just happened to break down right here. Then he shook his head, telling himself not to be stupid. He couldn't take care of some kid. He could barely cook a meal without blowing something up, and he certainly wasn't parent material. All his life he had fended for himself, and cared for nobody else. The kid would probably be better off here. He tore his gaze from the little child and headed for the door.

"Good luck. It's been nice meeting you." Koji said, slapping him on the back, holding the front door open.

Bakura nodded. "Yes. Thank you. Really. Don't know what I'd've done without you."

"Hey 'Kura, you leavin' already?" Ikari asked, coming up to them, soaked from head to toe and wearing a grin that seemed somehow too big for his face.

Bakura nodded again, smirking. "Gotta get home, kid. 'S been nice knowing you."

Ikari ginned like a madman, as if that was one of the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. Thinking back later, Bakura realized if probably had been. The blond tackled Bakura into a huge hug. "Good-bye, 'Kura-san. I really, really hope I'll see you again sometime."

Bakura was more than a bit surprised, but he returned the hug, if a bit hesitantly. "Bye, kid. And good luck. Now get off, you're getting my clothes wet."

Ikari grinned, and released him. Nodding to Koji, Bakura sprinted back towards his car for all he was worth, eager to get out of the frigid air, dogging flying snowballs that sailed dangerously close to his head. The others yelled their own farewells at his retreating back, but Bakura didn't stop to respond. He did hate snow.

When he had reached his vehicle (which was in surprisingly good shape) he looked back at the old orphanage. He saw the porch light that had led him to a sanctuary during the fierce storm. He felt somehow connected to the place. It was like something was calling to him, telling him to go back. Bakura sighed. He really didn't need voices talking to him on top of everything else. No. He couldn't…

He was about to open the door and get in when something stirred in the back of his mind like a long forgotten dream.

It was an image of little Shadow. The child had looked so alone. So painfully alone. Suddenly, Bakura could remember in clear detail the days after Yami's death. He, too, had felt a dreadful loneliness that he wouldn't have been able to overcome without the help of his friends, especially his hikari. At least he had somebody by his side. Shadow had no one, No one to comfort him and hold him, and tell him that everything would be ok. Ikari's words came back to him softly, like a ghost riding the wind: …hasn't spoken a word…never seen him smile… And, knowing he had been all but defeated, Bakura heaved a last, relenting sigh. His conscience would never leave him alone if he left now.

Turning around resolutely, he quickly made his way back to the orphanage. This time, there were no snowballs to doge. The boys had used up most of the snow in the front, and had moved around to the back.

Skidding to a halt in front of the orphanage's front door, he knocked.

After a pause, the door opened. Koji grinned at him, arching an eyebrow. "Gee, back so soon?"

Bakura scowled at him. "Shaddup. Let me in. I'm taking Shadow with me."