A/N: It is time for… some more Reader/Reviewer Ass-Kissing! I cannot believe this has over one hundred reviews already 0.0 What is wrong with you people!? xD If you boost my ego too much, I won't fit into the same room with it. How will I write if my ego takes all the limited space in front of my computer? I'm not telling you to stop (really!) but maybe some harsh CC would bring me back on Earth xD But all review-worship put aside, here's the latest chapter. It seems that this story is far more complex than I first thought… I also thought that this chapter would be longer but I can't always be right xD

Shattered Crescent

Part Six

Bakura glanced back at Ryou who had been standing near the living room doorway. He wanted to see if the staring had stopped and was surprised to find Ryou right in front of him. Ryou searched something, frowning and piercing Bakura with those eyes.

"Ryou..?" Bakura didn't move when Ryou poked him near the shoulder. He realized that this was the first time Ryou had come close on his own, and the first time Ryou had touched him. The ice around his body melted in an instant, replaced by warmth. The other was so close that if Bakura moved his hand a little, he could touch…

Ryou blinked, a blush forming, the glass-eyed look disappearing. "I'm sorry, I- I just thought I saw something but it's… it's really stupid and I should just-" Ryou shut his mouth, lowering his eyes.

Bakura was confused; a feeling he didn't like so he ignored it and focused on being disappointed that Ryou had broken the eye contact. It wasn't just a bad thing though… Now he could concentrate on some other aspects of Ryou's body.

Ryou fidgeted under Bakura's watchful eye and managed to glare at him from under his bangs. A weird thought passed through Bakura's mind: what if Ryou was some kind of a mind reader? But if he was, he would have figured Bakura out so the thought wasn't just weird, it was stupid as well. Ryou was just perspective.

Since Bakura had been caught, he decided to bring up something that would distract them both for the time being, "What did you think you saw?"

"Um, it was nothing…"

"Right. Nothing." An eye roll was in order; Ryou could not lie with words so why did he even bother? "Seriously, what was it." It was a demand in a question's clothing.

Ryou looked up; wearing the same determined expression he had in the newscast. "I thought I saw an angel. Do you think that's stupid?" Even the tone of voice was the same and Bakura realized what the expression and voice-tone combo was for; challenging.

He smirked, tilting his head and crossing his arms. "Depends on where you saw it." Bakura didn't think it was stupid to see something others didn't see. Bakura was an artist; he saw things in a different light as well. That didn't keep him safe from the surprise, though, when Ryou placed a hand on the left side of his chest.

"Here," was the simple word that made Bakura step back in shock.

"What?"

The finger tips were touching the surface of his shirt and Ryou's eyes were locked on his wide ones.

"I'm not sure how… I mean, I thought that, for one second, there was something more than… more than meets the eye." A small, awkward smile wiped away the challenge and the hand fell back on Ryou's side. Bakura wanted to look away again but Ryou didn't let him. That moment, he hated his own inability.

"Don't be ridiculous," Bakura spat but a part of him wanted to believe Ryou. Once, there had been one other who had called him an angel. Her mischievous little angel.

"Ridiculous? Why- What are you saying?" When Bakura didn't reply, Ryou's irritation changed into confusion. "You don't think you have good in you." It was a statement. "Or maybe…" he paused but then shook his head, not continuing the thought almost spoken. "Never mind. I don't know you so I shouldn't have… I'm sorry if I upset you." Ryou gave Bakura a smile, a real one this time.

The gesture was too compassioned for Bakura to accept.

"Really? Maybe you should've just kept your mouth shut then, huh?" The speech pattern he had wanted to get rid of leaked through.

Hurt filled Ryou's eyes and his brows knitted, whole body tensing. "It was you who asked, and I already apologized for it. If you can't decide what you want then maybe it's you who should learn when to be quiet."

This was more Bakura's field, something he could handle. "It's not that I don't know what I want." He smirked, tracing a finger down Ryou's cheek. The other glanced at the hand and Bakura knew that it would be swapped away soon. It was nice to notice that Ryou didn't act right away.

"It's more that the… one I want confuses Me."

Ryou moved to get rid of the offending hand but Bakura was faster, taking a hold of the hand that would have disposed of his. Ryou glared but remained where he was. "Don't touch me."

Bakura's smirk grew as he felt Ryou's fast, warm breathing hit his face. He let go, backing away a few steps and raising his hands in surrender. "As you wish, Bakura Ryou." The disappointed was there, Bakura was sure of it, but it was short lived.

"I'm leaving now," Ryou informed but there was a small pause before he moved. He didn't bother with the clothes anymore, just headed straight to the nearest exit.

"When do you think we'll run into each other again?" Bakura called after him and Ryou stopped but didn't turn to face the other.

"How about never?"

Bakura pretended to consider it. "Hmm… I'm busy then. How does this Friday sound?"

"Look," Ryou whirled around, a frown on his face. "I have my own life and-"

"And it consists of what?" Bakura interrupted. "Being Domino's scapegoat?" Ryou's eyes widened and Bakura had to smirk at the reaction. "Believe it or not, I read the papers and I'm not an ignorant bastard all the time."

"What-? Why you-" Ryou opened and closed his mouth but nothing sensible came out. "That- that's really low, even from you…"

Bakura had a comeback but seeing how Ryou faced the floor and clenched his fists, he decided to keep it to himself. Instead of opening his big mouth, he waited to hear what the other had to say, and then he could say something stupid again.

"You have no idea what I'm going through and yet you just… assume that…" Ryou choked on his words and glared at Bakura one more time before turning to stomp out of the living room.

On occasions like this, even Bakura had to admit that he was dense when it came to other people and communication. Bakura didn't stay and curse himself, but ran after Ryou. If Ryou left this angry, or hurt, he wouldn't come back again.

"Ryou, wait."

Ryou opened the door and didn't stop when Bakura called for him but came to a sudden halt as Bakura's hand landed on his shoulder. He spun around, perhaps to yell at the other or even to hit him, but froze when Bakura kissed the corner of his mouth.

Bakura had wanted to bring their lips together but thought better of it. He wasn't dense enough to think that he could get away with it now. He wasn't scared of where that rash action would lead but knew that if he wanted to get into Ryou's good graces, this was one time he couldn't screw up. He let the kiss linger a little while longer before facing the paralyzed young man.

"I was an ass. Forgive me?"

Ryou blinked, a hint of red coloring his cheeks. Despite the small blush, he managed to frown, and Bakura made a mental note to figure out how to not make Ryou frown all the time. The man would soon have permanent wrinkles if the frowning didn't stop.

"I might consider it," Ryou told before backing the final step through the door, and closing it on Bakura's face. Bakura grinned and took that as a "Yes, I forgive you."

For a second the devil had been an angel. The illusion had been gone as soon as it had appeared, and reality had reclaimed its place. Against the gray window, Bakura's presence had been strong and otherworldly just like his paintings. For the briefest moment, Bakura had been untouchable by a mere mortal.

Ryou hadn't been sure, and still wasn't, if he had gotten a cheap peek of heaven or hell. Before he had the chance for the expensive full view, the vision had been long gone. Ryou thought he might be loosing it. He wasn't afraid of some hell but heaven was a different story.

Now, in the safety of his home, back on Earth and in precious reality, Ryou leaned against his closed door, a hand moving to the corner of his mouth without conscious effort. Ryou hadn't been sure if he should have been disappointed or grateful that Bakura hadn't done anything further; he had looked like he wanted to. Perhaps the artist's self-control was better than Ryou had thought…

"But…" Ryou frowned as he realized something. "My clothes." He looked down and saw the garments Bakura had lent him. The other was either lucky or brilliant because now Ryou would have to return them to him, or he would have an excuse to come and search Ryou out. Ryou wanted to think that Bakura was just lucky but the thought that this was what the other had planned all along refused to leave him alone.

Hiroto sat behind the front desk, going through papers. His mind wasn't in it and all text looked the same to him. Ryou had been acting weird for the past days. It was difficult to say how, but there was something in the way the other looked, spaced out more, that hinted Hiroto that something was up. He would ask about it during lunch and hope it wouldn't have anything to do with work. That would be small miracle but hope was free.

While staring at one paper without seeing it, a female voice brought Hiroto back on Earth. He looked up and the blue eyes he came in contact with made him almost choke on air. He knew the look they had. It was the "I can see right through you"-look Ryou had when things got weird.

"C-can I help you, Miss?" Hiroto managed out.

"I would like to report a missing person," the woman spoke and her voice had certain distance Hiroto wasn't unfamiliar with. It was almost lunch hour but he guessed one missing person couldn't hurt.

"Sure thing. You need to fill this out," Hiroto reached down to search for a form but stopped in mid-movement. "Or should I get the English version?" He would have to go upstairs for it and he wasn't in the mood for climbing up stairs, but he would have to if this woman needed it.

The woman gave him a formal smile. "No need."

"Honda, lunch- Oh…" Bakura appeared from behind a corner and stopped on his tracks. "I'm sorry; I didn't know you were still working…"

Hiroto came back up from his form-hunt in time to see the two encounter. Stares met, Bakura blinked and the woman's eyes widened. Hiroto had no idea what the heck was going on.

"Excuse me, young man." The woman took a few steps towards Bakura who stood frozen. "Have you heard of my little brother, Malik Ishtar, yet?"

Bakura blinked again. "Malik Ishtar?" He frowned in thought. "No… I don't believe I have, Miss."

The woman smiled but it was warmer than the reserved one she had given Hiroto. "When you will, let me know. I need to speak with him and bring him home."

"A-alright…"

"I am Ishizu Ishtar, pleased to meet you."

"Bakura Ryou… and um, likewise."

Hiroto felt out of place. Something was transpiring between the two he could never understand. He glanced at Ryou who looked confused but he got the feeling Bakura knew more about this than he did.

"Your eye is good, Bakura Ryou. I hope you use it well," said Ishizu Ishtar and Hiroto felt like he was spying on something he wasn't supposed see, much less understand. To his relief, Bakura did seem to be getting it either.

"My…eye?"

Miss Ishtar looked sad for a second. "Here's my card." She handed it to Bakura who took it but kept glancing between it and Miss Ishtar, unsure. "It's for contacting me when you hear of my brother," she explained. "And incase you need company of equal standing."

Hiroto raised an eyebrow at the woman's strange choice of words.

Bakura pocked the card, frowning. "Thank you, Miss Ishtar, but I already have company."

Miss Ishtar nodded, the smile coming back. "You have met Mikazuki Bakura." Bakura looked taken aback by the words and Hiroto didn't blame him. How did she know this stuff?

"Y-yes, I have, but what does that-?"

This whole thing was getting too weird for Hiroto to handle so he decided to put an end to it. "Excuse me, Miss Ishtar, but if you want to report that missing person, you have to-"

"Ah, yes, thank you." The woman turned back towards Hiroto. "I won't bother you much longer."

Hiroto exchanged a look with Bakura and they decided not to bring this up at the lunch table.

"Mikazuki Bakura."

Bakura stopped whirling on the barstool, facing the speaker. Malik stood with his hand resting on his hip, a smirk on his face. Bakura didn't like the feeling he got but smirked right back.

"You know, not many address Me as that around here, and I don't recall telling you My full name, Malik See-if-I-care."

Malik laughed. "Just like you didn't write your own name on the back of poor…" He pulled out an issue of 'Evening Domino'. "…Nouki Takuto?"

Bakura remembered to breath again as he stared at the image. How had he gotten himself in this situation? He figured that it might have something to do with the back incident and fixed his eyes on Malik. "I think we should discuss this somewhere more private."

The damned smirk widened. "You think wrong. Do you honestly think I'm stupid enough to leave the safety of the crowd for some place you could kill me at?" Malik said, looking all too smug for Bakura's liking. "We will talk right here, mister rising star of the art world. I wonder if the knowledge of your… hobby… would chase you little fan base away or add to it?"

Bakura's eye twitched and he let the malicious smirk come forth. "I have a nice spot on My wall I've been saving just for your blood, Malik."

Malik rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm scared. Let's talk business, Mikazuki."

"Business?" Bakura leaned back on the bar despite the anxiety warming his fingers. He wondered if Malik's blood would be just as red as anyone else's, or if the foreigner was just as full of it as his fake face. "And here I thought you wanted to blackmail Me into giving you information…"

"You're funny," Malik stated and sat next to Bakura. "Blackmail, business, same difference," he shrugged. Bakura snorted and thought that Kaiba would like this guy, given that they wouldn't end up killing each other. Despite everything running through him, Bakura waited for the other to start, deciding that it would be best to shut up when he didn't have the upper hand. It was interesting that Malik had figured him out with such ease. It had started out as a lucky guess, Bakura figured, but the real "how" was how he could get out of this situation.

"Ah, I see you have finally shut up," Malik commented and it was Bakura's turn to roll his eyes.

"And I see you have finally started talking." There went the shutting up. "Too bad all you do is spout shit. What do you want?"

The other arched an eyebrow, his blatant amusement doing wonders to Bakura's anger. "I thought you had already figured that out. I want to know a few things."

"I repeat, what do you want?"

Malik decided to cut to the chase. "Who do you recommend for an assassination?"

It was Bakura's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Depends on who you want dead, really." The other frowned and Bakura thought it best to continue. He would play along until he could think of something. "How much security are we talking about?"

"…A lot," Malik told after pausing to think. "Probably the best there is."

"The best...?" There was one person he could think on the spot that had top notch security. It was a shot in the dark but he would take it. Were he right, he would be in a much better position in this blackmailing business. "You want to kill Kaiba."

Malik tilted his head to a side. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't." The infuriating smirk was back online. "There are other people with good security."

"But not the best security, not around here." Bakura flipped his hair out of his face. "You do realize that he's the most influential man in Domino, right? You could never get away with it, no matter who you hired."

The shrug that got surprised Bakura. "I don't need to, I just want it done. What happens afterwards doesn't matter."

Bakura recognized this type of conviction to a cause. He could understand, on some level, where this Malik character was coming from. "It's a vendetta."

Malik's eyes narrowed for a second before he nodded, leaning on the bar. "Yes… I guess you could say that." He lifted his head back up. "So… Will you help me to pick someone crazy enough?" The grin was the most real Bakura had seen on that face. He realized that now when they both knew about the other's crimes, they had an equal standing, and was sure that Malik knew it, too. Despite how irritating the other was, he wasn't dumb.

"Even without any personal reasons, I couldn't recommend you anyone. None of them," Bakura waved towards the people present, "could pull it off."

Malik frowned. "Then who can? There has to be someone. I can plan it out; I just need someone to execute it." The desperation was all too familiar and since they were being honest for once…

"I could." He had broken into the mansion once for fun and stolen a spoon. It had been because of some temporal insanity or other, and while saner, Bakura figured it would be easy. "…but I can't kill Seto."

Disbelief was evident on Malik's face as he tensed to sit straight. "Seto? You know him?"

"Not expecting an artist to have connections like that, were you?" Bakura smirked but it lacked the arrogant quality. The expression was bitter and not easy on the eye. "I want him to be alive for convenience reasons." He had known Seto too long to let him go. Kaiba still owed him, and as it was turning out, Bakura was starting to owe Kaiba a favor or several.

"But I need him dead!" Malik slammed his fist on the wooden surface. "Have you no idea how much trouble I've been through just to get to this damn country? I can't afford to fail now and if you-"

Bakura interrupted the incoming rant. "Shut up, you brat. It's time you learn that nothing comes handed to you on a silver platter. If you want Kaiba dead, go kill him yourself. It's that simple."

If there was something he couldn't stand, it was people who wanted things but weren't willing to go through the work of obtaining them. He, or Kaiba for that matter, wouldn't be where they were if they had just sat on their asses instead of taking action. Kaiba would still be in the shadow of his stepfather, and Bakura would still be living on the street. Or better yet, they could still be in the orphanage, working as handy men for Mistress Bitch. Bakura had seen the other kids ending up as nothing and the mere thought disgusted him.

Malik had been silent for the past minutes but when he spoke, there was new determination. "You're right." Bakura blinked at the admission but Malik smirked. "Your little friend is as good as dead, Bakura."

Bakura smirked right back. "Don't think I'll just stand around and watch you kill him, Malik."

The other jumped off of his barstool, getting ready to leave, but, with a final grin, tossed over his shoulder, "Then stop me."

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