Disclaimer: Not mine. Not mine. Not mine.
Warnings: Shounen-ai. (Yaoi in nature) Hints of child abuse (to what point is only in your imagination, therefore only implied) Blanching balance between angst and humor.?
Summary: AU Everyone watches as heat rises and melts the mirage of a house that secured an unsociable Ryou for all his life. Marik/Ryou. Yami/Bakura, Seto/Otogi, implied Malik/Joey.

B u t t e r . C a s t l e
by Crimson Nightmare

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Chapter 1: Into the Open Mouth of a Disembodied Smile

"The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible" - Oscar Wilde

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He woke up from a dream of a game of Catch with Vitto, a green, green grassfield, and a child in white chasing him from behind. The sounds of childish giggles died down from his dreamscape as his conscious took over. The sun was up; dawn was here.

Putting away the washed dishes after breakfast, Bakura spread himself across the sofa, sighing in pleasure as the morning breeze brushed over his face. He sat there quietly, waiting, for he was expecting people.

'They're late.' Bakura mused. 'They're going to pay for make me wait.' He smirked as the doorbell suddenly rings. 'I don't like waiting.'

He got up, walked slowly to the door, opened it, and was about to begin a well-prepared speech to the fools at the door about being late and being losers, when a hot, white flash suddenly took over his mind. For a few good seconds he stood there, frozen in excruciating pain as the white flash continued to claw its way through his mind.

"-akura? Are you going to let us in or not? You're gapping like a fish." Someone was speaking.

Bakura blinked. Oh. The pain was gone. He was facing Yami and the others who were expecting to be let inside. So what was that all about? "Get in, you fool. And I do not, nor will I ever, do something as stupid looking as gapping like a fish." He added, glaring at Yami. The other just shrugged and made his way into the mansion, a light backpack in hand.

Following the Pharoah was Joey Wheeler (Heya Bakura!), who dragged his messy, heavy pack of who-knows-what across the floor, bringing in dust and dry leaves from the lawn outside. Bakura grimaced, but let the boy go for once. He didn't want to start killing somebody just yet. The Ishtars raced into the mansion at top speed - each sticking their tongues out at one another, and then raced around Bakura (Bakura Stop him! No, stop him!) once before rushing into the living room. Their packs flew across the room and each landed on the sofa with a small 'Thump'

Bakura sighed tiredly. "Why did I invite all the crazy ones into my house?" He muttered to himself. Again he watched as Seto Kaiba nodded once silently (which Bakura was somewhat grateful for), and entered the mansion with his ever-present suitcase. The taller man's lips twitched upward in a small, knowing smirk.

"This place is HUGE!" Otogi whistled, following, carrying a simple book bag. "Never knew you were the type for medieval classics, though." The black-haired young man started parading around in curiosity. Bakura closed his eyes. This was certainly not going to be easy.

"It was inherited. Now are you going to settle down so I can show you around or not?"

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Bakura's home was an enormous lone, stony castle on a large, near-triangular island in the middle of Lake Ishida. Yami's group had came by motorboat, all surprised at how far away and isolated it was where Bakura lived. Apparently, Bakura explained, he had food supply sent to him every month to put into storage, and the castle had been upgraded by Bakura so that clean water and electricity would be available just like any other mansion in a city would. Yami wondered how Bakura managed to live in this huge, empty place all by himself. It was so ... quiet here. As if all things were dead. Empty. Many rooms were left unused, or locked up tighter than a bank safe. Yami couldn't help but peer at those doors with curiosity.

They finally settled into their own rooms. Each differently styled, apparently designed by Bakura himself ("If I am going to have you people live here, I don't want to hear any of you complaining about anything" Bakura had said quickly in defense, least someone would think that he was being considerate), was quite suitable for each individual's tastes. Bakura knew people well, Yami mused, the young man did not survive just on toughness and pride. Bakura's ability to observe human behavior was...impressive, and even respectable. Even if the Theif's intentions weren't always upright. The white-haired man could tell you almost exactly what you're worried or excited about when he observes how you fidget out of habit and so on. Bakura was surprisingly pleasantly tactful with people when it was what he intended to do.

Yami looked around at his own suite appraisingly, pleased with the luxurious dark red curtains, warm, matted floor, and dimly glossed rosewood furniture. The elegant but not too dark theme was suiting, almost tenderly comforting the Pharoah to settle in. He patted his large cream-colored bed softly. "This is nice." He muttered.

"Hey, Yami!" Joey propped down on one of the dark red sofa in Yami's room, "Man, this place is awesome! Bakura sure knows how to make a room!"

Yami smiled, "Yes, he chooses things rather well for people." He set his backpack onto the sofa and gestured at Joey, "Come on, let's go see your room." He glanced at Joey's heavy bag. "I'll help you with that, too."

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Bakura was surprisingly nice - in the sense that he didn't throw Joey into a random dungeon, as Yami would have expected the white-haired fiend to. Joey's room turned out to have a lighter mood, a more childish feel to it. A friendly, light green theme was decorated and the sandy white stripped curtains were hanged to match Joey's bed, on which was a large Sheep plushie (that could make 'bah bah' sounds when you shake it) that Joey and Yami just stared at.

"What is that?" Yami managed to ask after a small while of staring.

"Bakura expects me to hug plushies to sleep at night?" Joey pointed at it rather blankly.

The two stood in questioning silence while Malik and Marik ran around outside, trying to find their rooms.

"Ha, I get my own room." said Marik.

"Don't be stupid, I have my own room too. So there!" came his little brother's protest.

(Yami heard this in Joey's room, and commented tiredly. "That's no way to express how stupid you both are.")

Malik was given an exotic looking suite with covers that had pale gold linings over some type of heavy white material. He liked his room. A few Egyptian artifacts decorated the corners of the walls, which, if looked closely, one could see the faint, pearly wall designs of Egyptian symbols. It was a breezy, yet styled theme made suitably for the younger Ishtar. Malik smiled.

Before he could go and bother Marik to see his room, however, Bakura's voice boomed from down the hall. "GET DOWN HERE PEOPLE. DINNER!"

Oh, well, another time then. He had got three months to explore this place anyways. What's the rush?

He joined the others going down from the second floor - which was where most of their rooms were located at - to the lobby, where a large, long oak dinner table was set up, ready for the meal.

"Wow, Bakura, you feed your pet out of your own bowl? (You seem too scary to do something so nice...)" Joey commented.

Bakura glared at the blonde (not really worked up, just annoyed at Joey out of habit) "Hn. Vitto's not just a pet to this family." he answered mildly. "Oh, and don't bother him when he eats. He always wants humans out of his way when he eats." he warned.

Malik and Joey watched curiously, as Vitto the pale labrador really did take the edge of his bowl in his mouth, and trotted off to who-knew-where.

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To be continued...

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A/N: Revised chapter 1. No cliffhangers this time, but really, how long do you think I can hold off on the cliffhangers? I tried my best not to change a lot. There are just some things that must make sense to me, and so those I changed. That way, surprise, surprise, this story can actually continue where I left off!
Feel free to tell me what you think. It's been a while since I wrote anything in YGO fandom. It's all school's fault. Blame it ALL on school. Yes.