Yin-Yang:

Theory of Relativity

First thing's first: I owe you all a big apology. The book I was reading which influenced this fanfiction was… misleading. The theory being used in this story isn't the Theory of Relativity (which is mostly about gravity) but Newton's Law of Motion. I don't have enough time or energy right now to go back and correct myself, but from here on out I will attempt to keep in mind the CORRECT theory/law.

Chapter Four

The rain-streaked windows reminded Ryou of tears, and he took a few moments to indulge in the pleasure that brought him. The very heavens were grieving, now, and he felt no remorse whatsoever. This feeling of power was overwhelmingly pleasant, coursing through his veins, through his heart.

It was the most power he had had over himself since the Ring came into his possession, and he revelled in every second of it. As a door closed quietly downstairs, a twisted grin spilled across his face, and a sickly sweet tone tainted his voice.

"Oh Bakura, my sweet," he sang, causing the white-haired spirit downstairs to shudder, violently. "Where oh where do you think you've been all day? There's so much to be done here!"

Ryou stuck his head into the hallway in time to see Bakura's messy mane of hair disappear into the kitchen. Brown eyes narrowed considerably and the younger of the two scowled deeply. A familiar object made it's way into the boy's soft hand, and he slithered gracefully down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

Bakura slouched, trying to avoid Ryou's dark gaze, but failed. As Ryou approached, the spirit disappeared into the Ring, causing him to growl, and curse his cowardly other half. Both aloud, and directly to his other half, the more twisted of the pair called to Bakura.

"Come now, you craven little rat. It's acceptable for you to desecrate my body, but heaven forbid you, who can heal himself, be injured? If you don't get out here I will come to you, and I will tear your mind to pieces."

From inside the Ring, Bakura let out a soft sob. Of course Ryou was right, it was only right that he be punished in return for all the injury he inflicted on Ryou; at the same time, he didn't really want to be at his former light's mercy.

Ryou seemed bitterly pleased as Bakura slowly reshaped himself from the shadows. His hand wrapped more firmly around the dagger, as he reached to yank Bakura out of the dark by the collar of his shirt. He briefly considered doing to Bakura what Bakura had done to him, before a more desirable idea came to him.

He gave Bakura a once over, before dragging him up the stairs, silently. Bakura whimpered softly as he attempted to keep up, and stay behind all at once. When they reached the bathroom, Bakura visibly flinched, then blinked in confusion as Ryou continued past it, towards his bedroom.

"R-Ryou…?" he questioned weakly. The look Ryou gave him could have peeled the skin from his muscles, and he immediately looked to the ground, following him.

When they entered Ryou's bedroom, the boy locked the door, and before Bakura knew what had happened, Ryou had captured both his wrists, and driven the dagger through both of them, and into the floor below, with surprising strength.

Giving a barely suppressed cry of agony, Bakura began to struggle, managing to slice open both of his wrists even further in the process. Ryou's eyes pinned him to the floor with a strange intensity, and the spirit waited, fearful of what was to come.

The smaller of the two shifted, straddling Bakura's still clothed thighs, and began to slice open the front of his shirt, making the purpled eyed man flinch at the tearing sound.

"So many times… I swore this would happen," Ryou murmured, removing the shredded shirt. "So many times I thought, after 'tending' to my injuries… that you would be the one… to finally rape me."

Bakura watched, somewhat appalled, as a strange, sardonic sort of smile lit Ryou's lips. "Many wanted to… Ra, was it so hard to see? But you... I wasn't worthy of you, was I? The only one I wanted was you…" The knife suddenly moved down, slicing the button clean off of the jeans Bakura wore, with such prowess that the spirit's eyes were locked onto the still spinning button on the floor beside him.

"R-Ryou I…"

"Shut up," the boy snarled, shifting as he started to remove Bakura's jeans. "Shut up… I'm in control now, this time… it's about my pleasure, not yours."

"You're right," a voice came from the door, and Ryou's head snapped around, to see Marik, Malik and Yami standing in the doorway. Yami spoke again, "You're in charge, Ryou, you have all the power… but you've become everything you hate."

Malik stepped into the room, and Ryou crouched away. "What do you know of what I like, or hate?" he growled.

The Egyptian boy gave him a sad smile. "You wanted to be even with Bakura, didn't you?" he asked, softly, "This isn't even, anymore. You're worse than he was…you've killed people... and what was it you would have done to the man you loved, had we not intervened?" Malik shook his head.

Ryou stared around at the three of them, clutching the hilt of the knife tightly. This, however, put no fear into Yami and Marik, who quickly approached, and grabbed him, grunting at the knife impacts, but not faltering in their efficient tying.

"Ryou… this is for your own good," Marik grumbled, and carted the protesting white-haired boy to the stairs. Malik pulled the dagger from Bakura's wrists, about to speak, but Bakura disappeared rather quickly out the door, after Marik.

"R-Ryou - !" Marik paused, giving Bakura a strange look, while Ryou merely glared, seething in anger.

"Ryou… Y-you were right... but you were also wrong…" Bakura bit his lip, then looked away. "I wanted you, by the Gods I did… but that was something… I would never have taken away from you… not by force... because it wasn't that you were unworthy of me… but that I was unworthy… of you."

The anger seemed to fade from Ryou's face, and a lone tear made it's way down his cheek, before it started up in full force. Marik looked decidedly uncomfortable, as the current psychopath broke down completely in his arms, and he sighed.

"For crying out loud, I'm not a consoling sort of person…" he grumbled, then looked up as Bakura began to descend the stairs.

Malik caught Bakura's arm, and shook his head. "We're taking him away for a little bit, Bakura…Yami and Yuugi will stick with you, because… the two of you are gonna undergo a lot of mood swings, I imagine."

Bakura frowned, about to protest, but Yami shook his head as well. "You're best off if you let us handle this."

"Yeah," Ryou growled, "because you guys did such a great job last time."

"You took it overboard, Ryou," Marik growled in response, yanking his arm in an uncomfortable position, causing the boy to yelp a little. "We're going to deal with this our way, in a confined environment, where you can't do shit all to hurt everyone else. Either of you."

Malik smiled a little at Bakura. "Don't worry, okay? We've got a plan."

The following days were a trial in themselves. Yuugi spent half the time yelping, and disappearing away from Bakura, whenever the moodiness got to be a bit dark, and the other half consoling the sobbing heap of white, when even the sun was too much for him. Yami idly thought, a few times, that blackmailing Bakura by filming all this would be extremely tempting, but the idea fled each time Yuugi scolded him.

In the Ishtar household, tantrums and tears were also common, as Ryou slowly submitted to what he had done, and what he had caused. Stabilising him was a difficult task, in itself – even at the best of times, Ryou was somewhat sensitive – but Malik worked with dedicated patience to try and help his friend.

Marik, however, was non-too-pleased about their houseguest's behaviour. "Get him food," he grumbled, "grab him water, he needs a change of clothes! What am I? A Ra be damned servant boy?" The child of hatred growled in utter annoyance.

"MARIK! Ryou needs a blanket – it's getting cold!"

Marik simply snarled. "He can get the damned thing himself!"