-sigh- Well, here's another chapter! Boy was this a hard one to conjure. I had to get myself into the right mood to do this chapter. Boy did it kill me. X.X I would have had it up sooner if it wasn't for my own story's spree. Got an idea and just took up on it without checking this one's progress. Sorry! Now this one is on my daily routine, so hopefully I can have a more accurate update.WHAT THE HECK AM I SAYING?! Jeez! This was the most funnest (is that a word?) thing I have written! I love it to death! And I am soo sixed about my reviews! I got 5 consecutive each time . . . I need to thank you guys individually someday and I swear I will! But, right now I am pooped. BUT . . .

THANK YOU ALLLLLLLLLLL!!! I really really appreciate it!

Anyway, ON WITH THE STORY!!

(Do I sound positive or do I sound positive?)

In the Company of Wealth

Chapter 6 --- Rage

The sharp ring of the doorbell jolted Ryou from his distant thought in his bedroom. He had just taken off his tie and sat down too! Sighing, he stood up slowly and shuffled out of his bedroom. His whole body was sore from sitting all day in the pews, and his eyes were still stinging from the held tears. He dared to not shed them in front of his yami.

The spirit of the Ring melted from him and walked beside quietly. His own yami had adopted a rather quiet nature since the funeral.

There was a lot to think about.

The doorbell rang again. "I'm coming!" Ryou said in his ever quiet nature and answered the door. In shock, he found a beautiful woman who looked no older than thirty standing in the doorway. She bowed.

"Are you . . . Ryou Bakura?" Her voice was hesitantly soft, the delicate lace scarf around her neck draped elegantly to the ground as she straightened from her bow, hands clasped together. She looked really, really familiar for some odd reason.

"Yes, what may I do for you?" Ryou could tell his yami was edging closer, weary of the woman. There was an aura the yami could not place, a feeling that didn't bode well with his darkness.

She smiled, her teeth a pearly white. "May I come in Mr. Bakura?"

"Oh! Yes ma'am, terribly sorry. I have my mind on a dear friend and ---" he closed the door after she stepped into the warm apartment and sighed, "Oh dear, I'm babbling aren't I?"

The woman shook her head, "No, Mr. Bakura. But . . . I have a favor I need to ask of you." Her words were tentative as she searched for the right ones.

The yami glanced wearily at the woman, Shall I rid you of her, hikari? he was being unusually nice for some odd reason. Was he scared? No, he looked jaded. He was on pins and needles with this woman.

Ryou shook her head, No, don't. I want to know why she needs our help.

Bakura sighed and crossed his arms against his chest. Suit yourself hikari. He sat on the edge of the couch and fixed his eyes on the woman sternly as if to bore holes into her head. Then they widened substantially to some things his hikari, a mortal, could not see. R-Ryou---

"What is the favor Miss? I doubt I can help you with much." Ryou ignored his yami for the moment and motioned for the woman to follow him into the kitchen. "Care for some tea? It's freshly brewed and I dare say I want it to go to waste."

The woman smiled again. Ryou noted that she seemed to always smile for some odd reason. "Yes. Yes, I would love that Mr. Bakura."

Ryou took two tea cups and saucers from the cabinet and poured two cups of steaming tea carefully but quickly. It was a fine art he had conceived while in London. His Grandmother had always wanted her tea on the spot. He handed the woman a cup and they both sat down to the small table beside the small kitchen.

"So, what favor could I do?"

The woman downcast her eyes, circling the cup with her forefinger. Her skin was porcelain. "You know my son, Mr. Bakura."

Ryou stopped in mid-sip and set the cup down on the saucer. "I do?"

Suddenly, her fingers tensed as she shot her eyes up to look straight into his. Amethyst to brown. "Please, I need your help! He's falling . . ." tears wield into her wonderful eyes, " . . . they are both falling."

" . . . Falling?"

Bakura stood beside his hikari and pointed to the woman, DON'T YOU SEE THOSE YOU BLUNDERING FOOL?!

"See . . . what?" The teen looked back to the woman and sucked in his breath. There were translucent beautiful white wings which spread from her back and filled the expanse of the room in their greatness. They were thin and frail, yet shone brighter than the sun itself. The brightness did not hurt his eyes, it entranced him. "Oh my . . ."

The tears escaped the woman's eyes and dampened her beautiful cheeks. "They are falling Ryou . . . both of them."

"W-Who? I don't understand --- who are 'they'?"

The woman shook her head and lowered her eyes again, "Two people who could have been as pure as you, you and the other."

Ryou's heart leaped, "Yes, but who?"

"You know, or knew him once as Noah Kaiba."

Kaiba? Bakura asked, Is he related to Seto or something? Just mentioning the former CEO's name made the usually arrogant and snarly spirit quiet.

I don't know . . . "And the other, ma'am?"

There was that smile again, that flawless perfect smile melding with the sadness of those sparkling tears --- and then Ryou knew, he knew who the other was . . .

"My child, my beautiful Seto Kaiba."

The doorbell rang and Seto snapped up from his state deep within his mind. He found Mokuba run to the door and open it, narrow his eyes, and slam the door again. Who was it? Luckily, he didn't have to ponder long.

"Who was dat?" Joey walked towards the door, "It wasn't nice to slam the door like dat!"

Mokuba shook his head, "Don't answer it Joey, it's no one---"

"Now you listen here boy! I order you to open this door! This land is mine now and you better get packing!" A key jammed into the lock and Malsworth stormed in, red faced and enraged. "You slobbering child, I will turn you to the city orphanage! I heard you are rather accustom to the place." The cherubic man grinned in contempt.

Mokuba gasped in horror and slipped back into Joey, who stood frozen. Kaiba growled, isn't that mutt gonna do anything?!

"C'mon . . ." Seto clasped his hands together, retraining himself, "do something mutt!"

Joey still stood frozen, no matter how much Seto would yell, he wouldn't reach the mutt, and never would. He was stuck while Malsworth grinned down at his brother. He heard his brother desperate, sober cries not to return . . . he heard the distant shouts of Malsworth to his body guards . . . and he could do nothing. He watched as his brother was seized by the arms and drug from Joey, who was knocked unconscious by a blow to the head. He watched this shaking . . . in rage.

The ghost ground his teeth, clutching his fists together. "You lowlife." He growled with his teeth clenched in restraint. His shoulders shook in anger he tried to suppress, his whole body convulsed in fury. Seto could not take this anymore, he had to do something. Mokuba was his brother, "And I will not have him taken from me."

From his back came white wings, wonderful yet venomous. An aura spun around him, swirling like the wind. Vases popped in the living room and books flew off the shelves. The whole of the room began to shake as the chandelier crashed to the ground but inches from Mokuba.

. . . And from Seto's lips came words below a whisper, a hiss in the deadly wind. "You dare harm my brother? You dare touch what is mine?!" Windows shattered as the posts of the stairs started to wobble and shake apart. "You are the lowest of the low! You sought beneath my contempt --- you have not a name!" His voice was not even his as it seemed, it was a foreign voice resting deep within himself, a burning voice full of passion unaccounted for, one which everyone heard and felons feared. "Never will you harm my brother! Never will you touch my blood!"

Malsworth gasped and stumbled backwards. "A g-ghost?!"

Mokuba stood in the center of the cyclone, wide-eyed. "Brother?"

In a split moment, Seto had taken control of Joey Wheeler's limp form and stood. The wind had died instantly. Mokuba turned his gaze to Joey, and found the eyes telling him different.

"Dare come into my house under my rule and you dare touch my blood?" Seto growled as he paced forwards, "You dare proclaim this house yours? This house has not earned your sweat and work. It has now earned your worth."

Malsworth straightened substantially, "What are you saying . . . Wheeler, is it?"

Seto ignored the comment and came within an inch of the sly man's nose as he bent to him. Blue glared into black. "If you dare come here again . . . this is a warning. Never set foot on my property again."

Malsworth stepped away from the psycho teen and straightened his jacket. "We will settle this another day. I will have the orphanage come for the boy in ten days. No sooner or no less --- unless he can find a relative to live with." With this, he marched off the property and into his limo.

Seto sighed and straightened himself. Calm, he needed to be calm at the moment and register his thoughts. He had no clue what he had just done, but knew he was now residing within that mutt's body, and boy did it feel awkward.

"B-Brother?" Mokuba stumbled forwards, "Nii-sama?"

Seto turned and grinned gratefully, his brother was safe. "Mokuba . . ."

The raven-haired youth's eyes widened even more if they could as tears wield into his eyes. It was his brother --- those eyes told him. "Nii-sama . . ." He ran forwards and hugged his brother with all his might, though he was hugging Joey, it didn't matter, his brother was the one hugging him back.

Noah stood near the window of his room as he glared down with hate at the happy family reunion. He wanted to smite them --- he wanted to cause them pain for this one moment. He wanted a thousand needles pinned to their very hides, just as they had him.

The demon stood behind the boy and glanced over his shoulder, "Master, you can kill them now if you want. They are vulnerable---"

Noah shot his glare to his minion. The demon had said Noah was his master to do the biddings for. A henchman. The boy despised the idea abruptly. "No, dare not touch them yet." His voice was soft, void of any emotion it had harbored once. "I want them to suffer mentally. I want them to live in the darkness, knowing there is no cure for this separated brotherly love."

"But Master, there is---"

"They won't find it. Seto doesn't believe in magic. He will not confront what he must to regain what he has lost." Noah grinned, "I am sure of it."

"What of yourself, Fallen Angel?"

"Noah. My name is Noah --- and I will regain my body. After all, I do have magic now, you know."

"Ah, right Master. So you will return as a living being?"

Noah smirked, "In a way my dear, dear Murtok." He looked to his hands and clenched them. "I've been like this for a long time. I don't remember how long I have been a child. I care not this form any longer."

The demon looked intrigued. "Really now, how old would you be if you were still alive?"

The boy chuckled darkly and fully faced Murtok, his eyes shining darkly with sick glory. "The same age as Seto Kaiba. I would be seventeen." With this the black wings spread from his back again, the feathers falling numerously from them with every movement. For a moment, the feathers filled the demon's vision, and then they settled to the hardwood floor. The demon rubbed his eyes and glanced up to where the boy was standing.

An elder teen stood in the boy's place. Alive. The wings were much grander, they spread wider and filled the whole room. They were thin black feathered arms from the man's back, yet their length filled the requirement for width. The whole of the spread reached each side of the walls, and even then they were longer and so elegant it seemed as if they were dreams plastered to the man's back. Or nightmares.

The man himself resembled Noah slightly, the way he stood and the glow in his azure eyes. Once short hair was now long and flowing, reaching to his back in a loose ponytail. His structure was lean and firm, nimble for flight. His skin was pale, a porcelain white. The clothes the boy had worn were gone, in their places were a white golden button shirt with golden trimmings around the bottom of the shirt, sleeves, and the collar and crimson long slacks. He wore black rounded shoes and the ribbon in the man's hair was bullion.

The man ran his nimble fingers through his gorgeous hair and grinned, though this grin was well developed as if through years of practice. It showed arrogance, mystery, and malice. All in which defined this man. "I have a feeling I will have fun today."

The demon bowed in pleasure, "Yes Master Noah, though, what will you have fun with?"

"At the moment, I have a sick fancy to toy with someone's soul."

"Who's Master?"

The began towards the door, his hands in his pockets. Shrugging casually, the door swung open on his command, "Whoever's poor soul I encounter first. Personally, I have a bone to pick with my own mother --- I hear she is still living down on Main Street."

"Why your mother Master?"

"Must you question everything?" Noah began to descend the stairs, taking one last sickening glance to the two hugging brother and turned to exit through the back door.

"Yes Master, this is my duty to the servant of the Fallen Angel."

"Then hush yourself for a moment's time. You will find out soon enough, that witch cannot hide her spurious nature for much longer."

"Yes, Master Noah."

Well, that ended on a positive note! Sorry for the crude ending to the chapter.

What'll happen to Noah's mother? What sick fancies does he have in store? . . . and how can Ryou help in this damnation? And why . . . why is the darkness ever-nearing? Is there light beyond what is dark?

There's the grays in between and Seto will have to find this thin line and grasp it before Noah pulls them both into oblivion . . . along with some casualties.

Okay, so now I up the reviews. I am sorry.

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