A/N: A long a/n ahead, made even longer by this warning! I can't believe this is the fifth chapter at last… RL has been really busy and stressful so I haven't been having much time to write fanfiction and that kept me up at night because the writer in me wanted to write so badly but the more reasonable part told me to sleep (hah, I don't sleep much in the spring anyway). I came up with all sort of weird shit that I might write down/draw and post during that time though :) But anyways, about this chapter and this fic: I'm not sure if I'm taking too many liberties with Bakura's portrayal (or anyone's for that matter) but I hope you won't mind (xD), and I'm not sure about the flow… Oh and thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I can't believe the amount of response this is getting -hearts you all- Also, I finally got to see Sweeney Todd (the movie horror-musical thing). How is that relevant? The movie has throat-slitting and meat-grinding in it. Yes. I was a bit irritated by this coincidence but got over it because the movie is awesome. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Shattered Crescent

Part Five

Ryou was thankful Honda had dragged him out; he wouldn't get his work done but at least he had someone who cared. He didn't really like being mothered by his friend, though…

"You haven't eaten anything, have you?" Honda accused as Ryou shoved the cooking into his mouth but now paused to chew and to give an answer, a guilty yet a bit annoyed blush tainting the bridge of his nose.

"I did have breakfast…" Ryou told, not needing to glance up from his food to know what sort of an expression the other wore. "I was busy and forgot, alright?" Food was second priority to something as important as helping to catch a person who murdered other people; Ryou was second priority to a thing like that.

Honda sighed, not eating anything himself because he had had a proper meal already, and having emphasized "proper meal" when explaining his choice to Ryou earlier. "Bakura, seriously… You have to put yourself first sometimes, you know."

"I know." Ryou hated the tone Honda used when he reminded him about that. Ryou did know but he rarely felt the need to follow that particular advice. He glanced up at Honda's frowning face, also furrowing his browns a little. "You keep telling me that, how could I forget?" His voice betrayed his irritation but only because he felt it safe to express, and Honda decided to change the topic.

"That reporter was really annoying, wasn't he? I mean, even you looked ready to punch his lights out," Honda grinned and Ryou decided to answer it with a smile of his own.

"Yes… that was rather infuriating. I wonder what he is going to do with the information…" They were referring to a reporter who had caught them on their way here and had asked all sorts of questions about the latest murder, or "kill" like the public called it. "A kill" wasn't planned, and Ryou guessed no one wanted to think of the ordeal as something planned by an actual person who lived among them. It was easier to deny the fact and think of it as something done by an animal, a thing with no wit or human emotions. Ryou resented that way of thinking and made sure to always use the real name: a murder, planned and purposeful.

Honda snorted, reminding Ryou that he was in the middle of a conversation. "Twist it for his own purposes, of course. Did you see what newspaper he was working for? 'Evening Domino' can hardly even be called a newspaper…"

Ryou nodded, a little worried about what the paper was going to print. "I hope it won't be anything bad."

"I doubt you'll be that lucky but, hey, we can hope," Honda told and added, "Eat up before your food gets cold." Ryou realized that he had stopped eating and restarted shoveling the food past his lips, the worry not enough the take away his hunger.

"…and I don't think even he knows whether he'll co-operate or not," Kaiba Mokuba told through the phone while Seto typed, not needing to pause in order to concentrate on the call.

"I trust you to make sure he does." Seto glanced at his watch; he had to be going in two and a half minutes.

"Sure thing, big brother," was the last thing heard through the line before both brothers hung up; they could be pleasant and brotherly when they had more time. Finishing his writing and straightening his tie just on time, Seto walked out of his office. Usually, he didn't pay much attention to his secretary as long as she did her job but now, as he passed her desk, a large picture of what seemed to be a dead body with writing on it caught his eye. Seto went and pulled the issue of 'Evening Domino' out of his secretary's grasp, skimming through the article.

"I can't believe you read this trash," he commented, sliding the paper into his briefcase and continuing on his way, just walking with longer strides so he wouldn't be late. Interesting how the worst newspaper in Domino was the only one who had reported that incident. The murders didn't bother him as long as they wouldn't interfere with his business but he needed to know what was going on in Domino; that was where the KaibaCorp headquarters were after all.

Knowing someone like Kaiba sure had its advantages. Bakura grinned at his copy of the newscast, moving a newspaper, if it could be called that, aside to read later and skimmed through a bunch of documents thrown on his small kitchen table.

It appeared that Bakura Ryou had taken a whole lot of criminal psychology courses at school, had good grades and had happened to stumble upon an investigation, helped to solve it and had been instantly hired by The Domino City Police but had also been offered a job in Tokyo. Bakura didn't know why Ryou wasn't in Tokyo but figured it had to be because of some personal reason.

Much to Bakura's amusement, he had known most of the people Ryou had helped to put away, but then again, he knew most people in Domino, the ones that mattered, so no surprise there. Bakura sipped his coffee and pulled over the newspaper, the term used loosely, the page that interested him already open. A picture of his latest art work took one fourth of the page and had a smaller picture of Ryou attached to it. A gentle hint of a smile curled the picture-Ryou's lips upwards, and Bakura guessed it was an older picture, stolen from somewhere just like the one taken of his art. He reminded himself to cut them out later but now he stared at the headline for a bit before reading on.

The article told briefly about what the police thought about the event and how they refused to comment on anything further. The reporter mentioned the newscast and drew feeble a connection between it and the incident. It appeared that the press had spent a quite long time harassing Ryou to get a comment because he had refused to be interviewed.

"It seems that this has turned a bit more personal," says Bakura Ryou as his only comment on the incident. This quiet young man who has captured the attention of the killer seems to be the only one knowing anything about the resent, horrible events taking place in our city. By refusing to comment he is keeping the whole city on its toes-

Bakura snorted; this paper spouted such trash. Like Ryou was the reason why the city was terrified and the police were incompetent. He wasn't interested in what the media or the general public thought about this, only what Ryou thought mattered. Those thoughts just were the ones not printed.

The papers were left on the table as Bakura grabbed the copy of the newscast and went to watch it. He popped it in and sat on the floor, ignoring the couch in favor of Ryou. He paid attention on how Ryou didn't take credit for the things he had figured out even though it was obvious that it wasn't "Domino City Police" who should have the praise. During watching it the second time, he paused on the bit where Ryou was just about to start his little announcement and was looking all determined.

A corner of Bakura's lips curled up but not to smirk as he watched the stopped image; Bakura Ryou truly had the most beautiful eyes. They looked at the world like there was something only they could see, had brown depths to drown in and light covered sorrow, knowing things no being so young should have to know.

Before he noticed it, Bakura had traced one of the eyes with his finger, fascinated by the shape, while kneeling in front of his TV. Bakura snorted at his own actions but didn't stop acting like the smitten fool he had thought he would never become.

"Excuse me. Can you read this to me, please?" Malik asked from the woman sitting in the table next to his. The woman looked up from her ice coffee and Malik smiled at her, a smile that was kind on the outside but held no meaning. "I can't read it all so…" he told, pointing at an article. A large picture that awoke unpleasant memories was coupled by a smaller photo, the person in it reminding him of someone he had to be familiar with.

The one looking like every other woman he had seen in this country placed down her cup and answered the smile. "Of course I can. Which parts do you need help with?"

The title, 'The Terror of Domino', told Malik that the article was not to be taken seriously, at least not when it came to details and police statements. The name Bakura Ryou jumped out and nearly made him loose his polite exterior. Bakura Ryou? The person in the picture didn't look like the Bakura he had met, once he got past the hair color, but it was an odd coincidence.

"There's no such thing as coincidence, little brother."

The odd coincidence was even stranger when coupled with what Bakura had discovered that one night and with the carving found on the victim's back. The Bakura mentioned in the article was some sort of an investigator though…

"What does the carving say?" Malik asked, interrupting the one still reading the piece of writing and not even caring.

"Um, it says Bakura Ryou."

He jumped up from his seat, yanking the paper back, and walked out of the café but not without remembering to yell a quick 'Thank you' to the confused woman. Oh, this was great, almost too good to be true. This was a potential chance to get, blackmail, much needed information out of that infuriating man who, for some weird reason, seemed to know everybody Malik needed information about. His sister's words echoed in his mind again but he ignored them. The chance of getting revenge on the person who had ruined his childhood was at hand at last. His father had been rather sane if not nice before he had been forced out of business and driven over the edge.

Malik stormed past a police station to get to the hotel a few streets down, his mind on what he should do to pull this off right, how to operate so all this would end to the death of the CEO of KaibaCorp.

A frown shadowed Ryou's face as he stared at the offending article. "It seems that this has turned a bit more personal," the paper read. That wasn't what he had said! The connotation was completely changed and… and it had been used against him! To direct his frustration somewhere, Ryou wrote offending things around the reporter's name, and decided that he needed to cook something. When he got to the kitchen, however, and opened the fridge to see what he had, he discovered that the fridge contained… a carton of two days old milk and a carrot?

He had forgotten to go grocery shopping. "Oh… bummer."

Rain hit against the window and the weather didn't look inviting. There had been a small store near his apartment building but it had been forced to move when new buildings had been built; fancy, all window apartment buildings at that. Now the nearest store was within a longer walking distance and, the weather being what it was, Ryou didn't want to walk there. He had to, though, if he wanted something to eat.

Ryou grabbed his umbrella and wallet, discovering that his rubber boots had holes in them and just put on sneakers instead. He walked out before he could change his mind and was passing the new buildings before he knew it, the wind blowing harder in between them. He was wondering what sort of people lived there when the wind caught on his umbrella, pulling it away from his grip. Despite how he held onto it, the umbrella flew away; leaving him defenseless against the pouring rain and within seconds he was soaked from head to toe. Ryou watched the umbrella fly away and disappear into the gray rain. He stood there, shivering, for a second longer before deciding to head to the store anyway like his stomach told him to and walked straight into someone in the process.

Ryou looked up, ready to apologize, and was met with a familiar set of features that aroused conflicting emotions.

"Well if it isn't Ryou from My art exhibit, what a strange yet wonderful coincidence."

Ryou's brows furrowed ever so slightly, but still, he was flattered that the other male remembered him. "Bakura… I agree on the strange part at least." It was pretty weird for them to run into each other like this… Ryou wasn't in the state of mind or in the state of clothing that he could start a conversation but he couldn't help but ask, "What are you doing here in this weather?"

Bakura raised a brow, smirking. "At least I'm dressed for the occasion." He eyed Ryou's soaked sweatshirt and jeans, wearing a see-through rain coat to seal his chosen attire and hair from the rain. "I was just about to go and find my lost inspiration but it appears I've already found it. Too bad it's soaked and not that happy to be found."

Bakura's eyes appeared dark brown in the gray rain, not the red shade they had been in the fluorescent light, and scanned the other, making Ryou horribly self-conscious and aware how the rain made his clothes more formfitting than he would have liked. Being referred to as an it didn't help his mood any, either.

Ryou flashed a small smile that stayed far away from his eyes. "I really can't stay and chat," he told and started walking past the other. A hand was placed in his path.

"Wait," Bakura spoke and Ryou looked at him, wary. "I live here." He gestured to the building they were standing next to, earning a disbelieving blink from Ryou. "I could get you something dry to wear." Make that two blinks.

"I…" Ryou wasn't sure what to say, glancing around him and then back to Bakura. He stopped to stare for a brief moment; the look he got wasn't the same amused and curios one Bakura had given him in the exhibition, it was more… what exactly? "I don't think that's such a great idea."

"You're right, it's not just a great idea, it's My idea," Bakura smirked and Ryou found his lip curling up, too, despite his effort to keep frowning. Encouraged by Ryou's reaction, Bakura pushed on, "We could talk about art some more."

Ryou remembered something then that had kept bothering him after the exhibition and just couldn't help his curiosity, almost blurting out his question before even realizing it. "The crescent moon and the woman with the dead baby, what..?" He shut his mouth, feeling embarrassed, but Bakura's previous smirk only got wider.

"Yes… I think we should continue the discussion somewhere you won't freeze, though." He spun towards the entrance and in the same fluid motion, somehow managed to place his hand on the back of Ryou's neck again, brushing the wet hair away. Ryou jumped at the sudden contact, the other's fingers warm against his cold skin. He wasn't sure if he liked it so he took a few faster steps as soon as they entered the building. Why had he even waited that long to take those steps was beyond him…

The hall looked modern with metallic surfaces and glass, and somehow, it all felt so cold and distant, not at all like the warm atmosphere in Ryou's apartment building. He was distracted from his surroundings by a movement in the corner of his eye. The transparent hood was removed, the hair shook loose, the flying strands reflecting on the surfaces of the hall and a slender-fingered hand ran through the white mass, the strange ring catching the flickering hallway light. Ryou reflected from the metallic interior, too, but he looked like a soaked dog, so much unlike the man who now noticed him staring and raised an eyebrow. What was it with all the eyebrow-raising?

"You should close your mouth before I take advantage of it, you know," Bakura told, tone casual, snapping Ryou out of his trance. The young man followed the advice but added his own twist by frowning, trying not to blush or stammer but not quite pulling it off.

"I-I was just… I wasn't…" The frown increased and Ryou looked away, annoyed by his own poor verbalization. "I wasn't even gapping…" Ryou finished his lame reply, not coming up with anything good or intelligent. Had he been looking, he would have seen the amused smile that changed into a cocky smirk almost as soon as it appeared.

"Sure you weren't…"

The elevator's 'gling'-noise saved Ryou from further ventures into the topic. The trip up was silent, Ryou making sure not to look at the other, finding something interesting on the wall. Before he knew it, the elevator had reached the top floor and a wooden door was in front of him only for a second as it was opened and he was guided in.

"Wait here and try not to drip on My floor too much." Bakura disappeared halfway into a hallway closet, throwing his rain coat and shoes off while he was at it.

"I can't exactly help it," Ryou told, not sure what he should do now. Had this been a good idea after all? He didn't even know this guy and yet there he was, in the home of someone he had only met once. The towel thrown at him served as a distraction from those thoughts as he tried to figure out how to get out from under it. A pair of extra hands dived into the towel and messed his hair, startling him.

"Hey, what-?"

A corner of the white fluffy towel was lifted and Ryou found himself eye to eye with Bakura. The man grinned at him, his eyes twinkling. "Peek-a-boo, I see you…" Bakura told in sing-song, and Ryou just stared for a good while before bursting out laughing at how ridiculous the situation was. While attempting, and failing, to control the sudden show of emotion, he realized that he hadn't laughed this much in what seemed like forever…

"Really? Why is this brown then?" Ryou asked, pointing at one of Bakura's paintings. Ryou seemed real interested about everything and anything, from all the "strange" imagery to the more technical details. Bakura thought it was sort of cute, and would continue to think so as long as Ryou didn't find out anything really interesting. As if that could happen though; Bakura did not slip up.

"It was an experiment gone a bit wrong. I was trying out something new and it didn't work the way I wanted it to," he explained, every word the truth, just lacking in detail… Ryou wasn't even looking at him at the moment, eyes on the experiment-gone-wrong, smiling at it.

"Well, I think it's pretty."

Bakura's eyebrow arched; he didn't like that one himself. Why hadn't he gotten rid of it yet? "You do? How so?"

"It's just…" Ryou frowned, small wrinkles forming on the bridge of his nose; to the same place where his blush would be. "It's more… earthy, somehow." A blush took place and he scratched the back of his neck. "You know… The other ones are so otherworldly and kind of… uh, distant?" He glanced at Bakura, perhaps to see if the other thought his explanation was dumb.

Bakura nodded, a corner of his mouth curling up. "I get what you mean. You think it's the color?" Ryou wasn't bad company once he relaxed a little, otherwise a bit too uptight, needed loosening up. The innocent half smirk turned less innocent.

A brief furrowing of eyebrows brought Bakura back on Earth, reminding that he was in the middle of a conversation.

"Well… It might be but the scenery is a bit more… normal in this one, too." Ryou turned to the painting again before looking around. Bakura wondered if all the brushes, clothes and canvases lying around bothered the other but shrugged the thought off as silly and random. "I mean, you do have forest in some of your other ones as well but… there are also things like ghost in them so…" Ryou smiled, directing some of the smile to Bakura but most of it was for the paintings.

"I take it you like them, though?"

Ryou nodded. "Yes, I do like them… They're all so weird," he finished with an even broader smile and somehow, Bakura took the statement as a compliment. When people said something was weird, they meant it not as a good thing, but as the opposite of 'normal', and 'normal' oftentimes meant 'good'. That didn't seem to be the case with Ryou, though.

"You're a bit strange as well," Bakura nodded his head, the gesture almost a mock bow. It was meant to be good-natured but something in the way Ryou's smile changed, faltered, told that it had struck the wrong string. Bakura tilted his head when it came up from the nod, eyes narrowing in thought. "I meant it no offence."

The smile grew but kept its new quality, "I know." Ryou tried to find something else to look at than Bakura, his eyes landing on the clock, widening and blinking in disbelief. "Oh no… I've been here far too long, I should- You must have something else to do and I was supposed to cook and…" He looked around for his own clothes, movement jerky, seeming to be in a great hurry to leave.

Bakura rolled his eyes, arms folding; the relaxed Ryou was gone and replaced. "Ryou, relax, it's no trouble. I invited you here, didn't I?" Not all of the irritation was kept out of his voice nor did it go unnoticed by the other who, as Bakura had discovered, noticed most things even when he appeared out of it.

"Yes but… Where did you put my..?" Movement halted as Ryou stopped to stare. He seemed so distant, as if not gazing at anything in the room. The eyes were aimed at Bakura, flickering to the rain-beaten window behind him, without looking at Bakura but rather somewhere beyond him. It was an unnerving look and made it difficult to meet Ryou's eyes.

Bakura turned his head, finding something interesting on the wall. He felt disappointed that he had not been able to hold the gaze, and yet, it was amazing how a look had gotten him to turn away. That alone was enough to prove he had something exceptional here, someone he could not let slip through his fingers.

Feedback is food for the starving soul. …or something 0.o