A/N: I think I've sorted the plot so far. If I ever truly stop posting, consider me dead, because I won't finish until the end—even if it's 2026.

Cecil Raliek: I assure you it's not that extreme. Just a long time reviewer, I wanted to 'meet'. I was hoping for some inspiration on Insignificant, and it worked. Here's the real chapter 23. Don't glimpse over the gameshop scene. Fair warning.

Ch 23: I Know What You're Doing

Monday dawned far too soon for Bakura's liking. After the horrendous argument yesterday at the Mouto's, Bakura wasn't ready to face the Kame Game Shop in a part two of a never-ending infinitely he could never escape—rather, whatever work the shorter idiot's grandfather tasked him. The fact he had been caught and stopped had been explained by the presence of modern technology in almost microscopic cameras placed at the ends of every aisle. In short, Bakura's thoughts reminded him, he had even failed at something that should've been akin to respiration. Or, worse the concept that technology had reached a point of automation, this modern world just wasn't for him.

His thoughts were cut short with a small tentative smile from Ryou, a subtle reminder of what he had to contend with after school. Bakura appreciated the tact behind the simply exclusion of a verbal reminder.

That idiot, Joey, just had to pop off with some stupid, condescending rejoinder yesterday—obviously a retort to some information Bakura was not privy to. The 'hang out' at Yugi's had Bakura avoiding the group and sitting, alone, in the play park, trying to be invisible to all the gossipy mother's and young children. To top it, Bakura didn't even remember exactly what had been said to piss him off.

He remembered the shame, the implications. Joey made that clear every time he sat down for lunch. The past week had been especially hellish with the whole group openly opposing him. But, alas, he followed Ryou, and Ryou's eyes crinkled just a tad and lit up every time Bakura affirmed he would join Ryou for. And, he was eating: Bakura witnessed. He may have gotten caught shoplifting, and shamed via modern day 'politics' (and he still didn't really feel shame for his act, just shamed by others), but Ryou's eating…thing hadn't resurfaced because of it.

Joey already implied that it would—making, frankly no sense to Bakura. The idiot blond was already on the topic du jour, much to Bakura's quickly diminishing appetite and trembling fingers tightening around the chopsticks he imitated eating with.

"Well it is!" Joey yelled, "I mean what I say, and he's just not trying—" Whatever insult upon himself Joey intended to make was cut short by Bakura's intended departure to what was quickly becoming second nature, the toilet. In a Japanese home or school, Bakura truly could be alone in the small tatami space of the toilet. Of course, the school, included individual cubicles layered over a larger tiled room, so the privacy was diminished, but the blades beneath the Change of Heart card his hand curled around automatically, were not.

Privacy was quickly becoming a receding privilege as Bakura realized the Pharaoh had followed him down half the hallway. With a recall lag time like that, no wonder he had been caught at the bloody 7-11.

"Just headed the same as you," Yami deflected at Bakura's likely poisonous expression. Because, who would be irrational about that?

"I'm not about to steal the mascot, Bakura riposted as he slipped into a stall, a few from hopefully anything but prying ears. With a glance upwards, privacy confirmed, Bkura did what 'he' intended for the short trip to the toilet.

Bakura arrived at the Kame Game Shop, promptly after school. He followed the route Yami, Yugi, and Marik took to the bus stop, then rode the city bus to the closest bus stop, gratefully when it finally came to a screeching halt and he could get away from Marik's penetrating concern and Yugi's inane attempt to involve him in the conversation. It made him miss the comfortable silence of his walks home with Ryou.

"Hello, Bakura," he called, sounding more cheerful than he had the last time Bakura was near Yugi's grandfather. Bakura muttered a greeting. Solomon led him through the shop, into the back room, which Bakura was glad to note the inclusion of color so it wasn't as plain as the one he had been detained at last week.

"I don't think you're a bad kid," Solomon said, as he arranged a couple boxes on a cleared off table. Bakura arched a brow, but let the older man speak. "I think you're confused. Just like Marik." He gestured to the seat closest to the boxes, so Bakura sat, curling his fists on the metal seat, preparing for the onslaught of Marik's miraculous chrysalises.

"It was a rocky start, yes," Solomon said as he handed Bakura a clipboard. Bakura accepted it, uncurling one hand to grasp it. He glanced down at the boxes of descriptions. "I need you to take note of how many packs of Duel Monsters' cards came in," he explained.

Bakura nodded, unhooking the pen from the metal clasp on the clipboard. Solomon walked to the front of the shop at the sound of the bell announcing a customer. He lingered at the doorway. "You'll figure your way, just like Marik and Yami." He left the room, and Bakura breathed out, relieved.

He spent the next hour or so working on the tedious and mind numbing assignment Solomon had tasked him with. He made messy piles on the table, one for each of the five types of booster packs. His stomach turned at the ever present reminder of each of his dueling matches for the Millennium items, each of which he lost in the end.

The ease of the task granted his mind the freedom to wander and dwell on the darker and more depressing thoughts. Finally, all packs sorted, he fanned one type of pack, totaling up the amount of packs, thankful for the distraction. He jotted down the number, tossed the packs into the box, and started on the next pile.

"Good system," Yami said, leaning over Bakura. Bakura glanced up at Yami's chin above his head. He shook his head and finished counting, before deigning to reply.

"It's not hard," he commented. Yami pulled up a seat across the table. He toyed with one of the packs that Bakura had already finished sorting.

He flipped the pack over in his hands. "The first time Grandpa made me do this, I tried to count them before sorting them. Made it hard to keep all the numbers straight." He let out a small chuckle.

Bakura lowered the fan of cards he was counting, slid them up like a deck of cards with his opposite hand, and thrust the bulk into Yami's face up palm. "Count them," he growled. He picked up the second to last pile, glaring at Yami through his black fringe. "Since you made me lose count, fix it."

Yami fixed Bakura with an ugly sneer, but when the thief simply counted his pile in silence, Yami started adding up the number of packs in his hand. He grabbed the clipboard away from Bakura's side of the table, and wrote down the number next to the coinciding description. He handed it back after a moment, then picked up the last pile and proceeded to count them.

The two sat, silently counting Duel Monsters merchandise, until the silence ate at Bakura. Just what the hell was the pharaoh getting at, first at lunch and now…?

Bakura hedged a glare at his former rival and current enemy by association of Joey. He held it long enough Yami looked up from his counting, but, frankly, by the worried lip and hands that were twitching slightly in a mockery of a steeple.

"What?" Bakura barked out the inquiry since the Pharaoh obviously has something to say.

"I know what you're doing, Bakura". A flinch. A twitch of his eyes.

"Fuck off, Pharaoh."

Yami leans forward, eyes at meeting Bakura's. No arrogance, no pompous smirk, just a slack expression. Yami fixed his gaze towards Bakura. Instant freeze. Every nerve seemed to be awakened. He couldn't.

"Bakura,"

"Look, everyone knows," Bakura cut off whatever damning words with the intent to remind him his theft and subsequent punishment Yami was now interrupting were common knowledge, on to be cut short by Yami, then the punish-ie, himself: Solomon.

"I'm not talking abo—"

"Oh, hello Yami," Solomon ventured deeper in the back room to relieve Bakura from his task. He stopped short at the sight of the two once enemies seated at the same table, evidence clear of them cooperating, counting other types of games, Yami teaching Bakura the basics, pointing out where the item was on the inventory sheets.

The afternoon/evening crowd must've thinned out, and perfectly timed; Bakura grimaced a light smile at Solomon's evening greeting, "Well, boys, thank you for your work today. I appreciate your help."

Bakura placed the last game board in the box he had placed on the table a few minutes earlier and unearthed the clipboard. He returned it to Solomon, mumbling, "Goodbye," and not glancing in the direction of the Pharaoh whom was becoming worrisome for a new reason.

A/N: Is it real? An update? A phantasmal hallucination? I can't say I know whether Japanese schools have mascots. I imagine if they do it's the figurehead of the top most senior administrator, so superintendent maybe? In a Japanese corporation, the CEO or president is the most valued person (but also most held to shame: it's actually a big deal that Kaiba is a CEO, but also is treated as a student by the education system).