Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own YGO, I sent a letter to the owner but he still hasn't gotten back to me on that. TT

Oh well, so, I'm back with another chapter and it didn't take forty nine years this time! Yeah, it's kind of short and its not all that great, but I justneeded towrite more pictures. ''

Please read and enjoy!

Era: Dang...took you long enough.

Oh...shut up

That night Ryou wept himself to sleep in Bakura's arms, and though Bakura didn't know why Ryou wept like this, he knew the need to protect his hikari, like a devoted darkness, yet his grip around the weeping boy spoke of more than a need to protect, his powerful grip also spoke of a powerful need to hold onto something. He was going mad like this, there was no way that he could continue to live like this, with Ryou's safety-both mental and physical- in danger in every moment, and his as well, he would not fail to protect someone who cared for him again.

Unbeknownst to him, Ryou had begun to lose himself long ago, although he refused to face the truth, but he was for the first time realizing that his heart was still intact, that though all this happened, he remained ever pure. But he himself, did not realize that yet, the time was not right for him to realize. After he had stopped Mai's part in this mad game, he felt the numbness burn, as if blood were returning to an area where the circulation had been blocked for a long time and now he was weeping again.

As for Bakura, he was himself, severely rattled, he'd gotten into the room that he'd christened the room of memories. There had been a note in an unfamiliar writing speaking of the purpose of this particular set.

My dear detective,

Welcome to the second part of my paintings, I am sure that you have figured out the first message that I carried to you, but now it is time you know who I am, observe carefully, dear detective.

Yours truly

And then a scribble, he couldn't interpret, but he could sense that the intentions meant for him to find was not cruel, but a way of ending things, he was tired as well of this game. Along with the note, he'd found two more mirages, both of them as breathtaking as the previous, yet without as much vengeance and hostility as before, one seeming more mournful and the other angry, but more frustrated than really hateful.

The first picture was unnamed, but he could tell what it was called all on his own, without the help and he was enthralled with how the one painting could capture all this perspective. In the first view, there was a mirror, in every essence Mai, yet not Mai at all, for the appearance was somewhat different yet the personality could be seen, and it was hers well defined. The eyes were a blend of colors, not the vibrant purple but a mix of colors which spoke of power and tenderness in a perfect balance, the hairstyle loose and flowing in the loose and bold way that Mai had always lived life. So many prominent features, all of them showing who she was; the quirk in her lips showing the disdain that she had for the weak, yet the softness contrasting sharply to show that she still cared, there was no end to the deepness that he saw presented.

And then this mirage was on a completely different level than the other, one could actually see the transition between the two images, like a power point per se. The mirror seemed to crack and implode on itself, disappearing into a flurry of petals before revealing a field of flowers…and sun. Ra, how long had it been since he'd felt real, authentic sun on his skin and the breeze dance across his surroundings, how long had it been since he'd been free?

But moving on from such things, the second picture had been so innocent at first, a small, newborn puppy, eyes barely opening again, so tired, yet old enough to haveits fur and hope of life, and it was nestled close to its mother and his brothers, who was curled around the puppy protectively, keeping it safe from the horrors of the world. But thepicture that came next wasfull of rage, confusion and frustration and although it was a dog portrayed, it should have been a wolf with the way it seemed to look around, eyes wild and wary, trying to run. Whatever he'd been hoping for, the canine was cornered and obviously abandoned, alone, but willing to fight still, and Bakura could see that it was the same puppybefore the wildness and wariness had set in, before the pain and the suffering, the loss. Bakura began to understand then, not as much as he would have liked, but at least a little bit, and he was fine that way, fine adjusting; it seemed that that murderer was deeper than he had previously thought.

The door opened moments later though, and Yugi walked in with Duke, his violet eyes distraught and the dice master seemed distant, looking almost fearful and in awe. "Where is this place?" He asked softly, whistling in a lowvoice and the two just then realized that Bakura was in the room. Yugi backed up, eyes wide and horrified before turning and running and Duke and Bakura just stared, confused. "Shouldn't you be with your partner?" Duke asked quietly and Bakura shrugged.

"He's safe, shouldn't you be with yours?" Duke nodded and ran off only minutes later while Bakura looked exhausted. Whatever happened, it would be over one day...and he hoped that it would be soon.

Mah, it's short! Oh well, please leave a review and wait for the next installment!