A/N: Well, here we are at our first proper chapter! It's back to school on Monday, so I have no more idea then you do as to when Number Two will be up…

Disclaimer: .dekrow ti kniht t'nod I .gnitseretni kool remialcsid a gnikam ta tpmetta hctid tsal A

Sorry. Couldn't resist. Roll fic!

One: A Schoolboy

"Stupid, stupid, stupid…" Ryou muttered to himself, in time with the rhythm of his footsteps. He was not afraid of people hearing him talking to himself and thinking of him as mad. No-one was ever down by the Remington Bridge at this time of day. It was a fairly poor excuse for a bridge, really. Sitting in the middle of a residential estate, it served as a path across the canal but mainly so the estate agents could claim that the flats surrounding it had a 'river view'. This was what caused the bridge to constantly be in the semi-darkness, as they rose up and practically blotted out the sun. Like the plants optimistically planted along the river side, the bridge seemed wilted and half-hearted on the best of days. Barely ten strides across, the only real time anyone except him set foot on it was to jump off it- which was a disaster for the estate agents as it 'brought the tone of the area down somewhat'.

Ryou's own home did not back onto the canal. In fact, it was only just in the same residential area. The cheapest flat he could get, without having to risk running into the downtown of what was then an unfamiliar city. However, in his opinion, it had been way under priced. Tastefully decorated, it was the sole flat on the top floor. Someone had died there, but he didn't mind. He had no problem with Ghosts. It was a good trek to school and back everyday, but he didn't mind that either. He liked walking, in the solitude, back to the equal solitude of his own flat. No other students, as far as he knew, lived this far out; and most of the other residents were at work when he was around. Usually, he had a good mile or two with out seeing another living thing.

Yesterday, of course, had been the exception.

Ryou sighed deeply as he began to walk over the bridge to the other side of the canal. His mutterings made him feel no less idiotic. If anything, they made him feel worse. He didn't regret saving the girl's life, of course not- especially as she was so happy now. But it had really been none of his business. He'd had no right to stop her if that's what she needed to do. And now he had broken the promise he'd made to himself. He hadn't thought, just acted. He stopped just before the other side of the bridge, groaning.

"This is happening more and more often of late…" He whispered to the waters below him. "I can't keep on hanging in the middle like this… I must go one way or the other. And I know which way to go. It's just that it's slightly easier said then done."

The canal carried on flowing past, not even stopping long enough to listen, let alone give him a response. It didn't know him. And even if it did, it wouldn't have replied. That was the problem. He just needed to hear some advice, a real voice, from the one person who knew about his talents. But he would never hear from her again. He shook his head hard, before he could have chance to start crying again. She'd always said he'd cried too much.

"I want to stop." He told the canal with a definite tone to his voice. Then he continued, slightly less certainly, "But I'm not sure if I can. I don't think I can even control it anymore." He sighed deeply as the wind continued to blow more and more vigorously. He knew it was reflecting his mood, and that if he wasn't careful he'd get angry and Domino would end up in a unexpected tornado. Unfortunately, that thought did make him mad, and his hands clenched into fists. "I hate this." He said, peering down at his reflection in the murky water. "You can tell I'm desperate- I'm trying to get moral advice from a river, after all." He threw a handful of dirt in, absently wondering how many people had sunk in the same way, shattering the image for a moment. "You're not even a real river. You're just a canal that goes from one reservoir to another. I'm really losing it…" He moaned, continuing on his walk again, running a hand worriedly through his hair, looking up at the sky- which was still reasonably clear, despite the winds of his turmoil that blowing through it. "I wish you were here to snap me out of this, Amane."

The only reply came in the form of his wind whipping through the trees and sending the branches whirling. Ryou laughed at himself, thinking how crazy he was getting, and trudged the rest of the way home in silence. One thing's for sure, he thought wryly, I don't feel better from talking about it.

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The building before her had no name. It had once, certainly, but the letters of the sign had long since worn away, beaten off by years of dirt, dust, sand and wind. To many it seemed ominous in it's being anonymous, but to her it was home. It had a narrow door leading onto a narrow street, and it was into this that she stepped. This place was no Ritz, but it was suited to her purposes. And, most importantly, it was cheap and completely unremarkable. Which was helpful, when you are not only looking for someone, but are also being looked for. Casting a last disdainful look up at the stubbornly blue sky, she ducked inside.

Quickly, she removed her hat, hanging it on a peg on the wall before hastily putting her basket of groceries in its place, on her head, out of harm's way. As usual, the place was in chaos, and it seemed the source of the commotion was heading this way at some speed. Seconds later, it appeared, jumping on her.

"Did you get something good?" It demanded, trying to reach the basket, which was held elusively out of her grasp.

"Don't let her get out the door!" another voice called, it's owner appearing on the stairs. "She's grounded!"

"I know…" The bringer of groceries replied. "Hala, get off me… We can't eat anything until I get this into the kitchen." The little girl shook her head firmly, giggling. Still balancing the basket, she sighed noisily. "Ghada, will you please control your sister?"

The sister in question began to prise Hala off her leg just as another member of the household appeared on the stairs watching in quiet amusement.

"What's all the noise about?" Amrita demanded in her characteristic Indian-accented Egyptian. "Is dinner ready?"

"I haven't got as far as the kitchen yet!" She replied, in her also-accented Egyptian.

"For heaven's sake…" Jalila's voice came from the room that was so desperately sought. She was tall as a beanpole, and came and plucked the basket from its hard-maintained position on the girl's head. She calmly exited, pursued by a hungry seven year old who was still trying to see what there was. Amrita, seeing there was no more to watch, went back to her room, asking someone to come and tell her when it was ready. Ghada trailed after Jalila and Hala, muttering something about helping.

"Some welcome home…" The girl whispered, sighing in relief. She moved into the living room, where the final member of the house would undoubtedly be. And, surprisingly, there she was.

"Hey, Abaca!" She said enthusiastically, not looking away from the screen before her. And so, within about five minutes of getting back from market, she had met every one of her fellow housemates. There were six of them, crowded into a house that many referred to as a 'girl dorm'. She quite thought it was just a name so they could rent rooms out to under twenty-ones. Not that she minded. There was very little interference from the land lord- As long as they paid, they could do what they liked. It was quite a business, nowadays. Midha, at nineteen, was the oldest. She didn't go to any of the local schools, nor did she work. In fact, it seemed to Abaca that she did very little of anything, really; except sitting on the sofa and watching re-runs of duelling tournaments on the cable. However, when they all put money in for the groceries, she always seemed to have enough. They weren't sure if she won it through games liked the ones she watched, or if she was a very good gambler, but as long as she wasn't involved in anything illegal, they didn't mind. Having been kicked out of her parent's house a year ago because she 'wasn't making anything of her life'- a statement even Midha agreed with- she'd come to the House to live there.

After Midha, Amrita was the next eldest at eighteen. She was the only other person besides Abaca who hadn't lived in Egypt all her life, having moved from India. Her father was a doctor, and he'd come to this country for his work. Beyond that, they knew very little about her, not even why she was living her instead of with her parents. She was a nice, but shy, young woman who many of the local lads were quite intending to marry. She would give them the time of day, just about; politely stating the hours and minutes before going about her business. That business seemed to be studying. She did not go to school either, teaching herself mysterious things up in her neat bedroom. Abaca suspected this yearning for knowledge could have been what had driven Amrita away from home, but she had no real evidence bar a vague instinct.

The next, when listing in age order, was Jalila, but only a little before Abaca herself. Neither of them went to school all that often either. They were quite the house of truants. A resident for the longest, Jalila had dropped out of school in order to follow her athletic aspirations. Tall and skinny, in the midst of training for the nationals, she was the fastest sprinter Abaca had ever met. When they had met, she had asked Ghada what a boy was doing living in a girl's dorm. It had taken her a while to decide, but Jalila's hair had been so short she was almost bald, and Abaca had eventually chosen the conclusion that she was male. Word of this must have somehow got back to Jalila, as she grew her hair slightly longer after that.

Ghada had not blamed Abaca for the mistake, she'd done it herself. Although only fourteen, she acted and looked far older, weary from sorting out the exploits of her little sister, Hala. She looked after the mischievous girl, and managed to get them both into school everyday; while Jalila and Abaca averaged two or three days a week, much to Ghada's chagrin. However, despite her plain and brow-beaten appearance, her mind was intelligent and sparkled with creativity. It was no wonder Hala still hadn't grown out of her sister telling her bedtime stories yet- Ghada told them so wonderfully, and they were all her own. It was not uncommon to find most of the other residents lurking outside the sisters' room at night, listening in. Their parents had gone off to live in New Zealand for a year, but neither Ghada nor Hala had wanted to leave Egypt yet. Eventually, their parents relented and allowed them to move into this building. Three years later, they were still here, and their parents were still paying the rent. The girls much preferred living alone, apparently.

"Idiot! Idiot!" Midha screamed suddenly at the television, making Abaca jump sky high. "Don't you know he's got a trap card!" Sure enough, the opposing duellist was triumphantly activating his card, and Abaca knew enough about the game to recognise it as Waboku, but not enough to recognise its master before the picture suddenly fizzled out.

"Must be a power cut." She shrugged. The afternoon light was still finding it's way in, so it wouldn't matter for a good few hours. Midha shot her a look, and Abaca noticed that she was holding the remote control. She'd turned it off. Pigs had flown round the world and past hell, which was frozen over. "Midha…?"

"I can watch no more of this… insult…" she muttered, before suddenly changing the subject- and, indeed, the language, as she continued in her own, rusty English, just to tease her: "Did you find the English Professor?"

"Yeah." Abaca replied, rolling her eyes and refusing to rise to the bait and speak in any language except the local one. "He was standing at the fish stall."

"Is that sarcasm?" Midha asked, back in Egyptian again, her somewhat limited knowledge of the other's language somewhat limited.

"Of course it was." Abaca sighed, looking slightly downcast. "I didn't even get any new leads. No-one had even heard of him. Not a sausage. Not a bean." She paused. "Well, except the ones I brought."

Midha put the television back on- That didn't last long, Abaca thought- and began to channel flick while absently continuing the conversation. "Never mind. He's just some dusty old English fossil man." She saw Abaca draw herself up to her full height, as best she could when sitting down.

"Professor Bakura is not 'just' anything!" Abaca replied, indignantly. "He's also a doctor of his field! Heralded as one of the best archaeologists of our time! He's responsible for almost all the most recent discoveries of this great sand pit's history! And what about all the papers and theories he's written? You must have heard about his thesis on Super powers- he says that-"

"Alright, I get it!" Midha shouted over the continuing torrent. "But you've been looking for so long! What are you even going to do when you find this guy? Marry him?"

"No…" Abaca slunk down in her seat, going slightly red.

"Heh." Midha snorted. "Am-Abaca's marrying a fossil!" She yelled it as a young child would, even stumbling on the name.

"I am not! That's just wrong!"

Midha snorted again. "Sure. He's rich and famous and you only came to Egypt to find him. So he's a little crusty… But what else would you want with him? Come on, admit it…You want to marry him! He'll die a good thirty or forty years before you, then you'll be in the lap of luxury! You want to marry him, you do, you do, you do!" She sang it out.

Abaca stood up. "Midha, you know nothing!" She screamed. "Don't pretend to know my personal affairs! You know nothing about me! Nothing!" She stormed off, bumping into Ghada on the way, but not speaking to her. Ghada went into the living room and looked questioningly at Midha, who looked rather self-satisfied.

"I love it when I'm right." She smirked.

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While most students were reaching home, Seto Kaiba was reaching work. Domino High held a strictly enforced 'No After School Jobs' policy, but that didn't quite stretch to the young CEO, and even if it did, it wouldn't have made any difference. That was the exact reason the school hadn't bothered trying- they'd rather Seto was working with their 'permission' then he was ignoring their rules. He ignored their other rules on a regular basis, but they had an unspoken agreement that if he didn't mention it, neither did they- and if they happened to mention it, they might find a portion of their corporate sponsorship mysteriously disappearing. They were not above bribery, and neither was Seto, who was, at that moment, sorting through the days' letters that were important enough to make it to his desk as opposed to one of his employees'. He flipped through the envelopes, checking they were all worthy of this status and had not slipped in by mistake, and between the bundle of brown and white, he saw the edge of a logo. He paused, frowning, before putting it into the scanner.

Outside, his secretary, a wonderfully efficient woman named Okawa, was typing busily away in her usual fashion at a memo sent to her from the R&D department. Before she could finish, however, Kaiba asked her to come into his office, which immediately gave her two clues that something was about to go terribly wrong. First and foremost, he never had people in his office when he could possibly avoid it, certainly not a lowly secretary. And he never, never asked. He demanded. He commanded. He ordered. He did not ask. Okawa hastily pulled the fountain pen she'd been supplied with out of the desk drawer and concealed it in her pocket. It was a good pen. And she knew what was coming- for whatever reason, (And it didn't have to a big one) she was about to get fired. But, if she was going, she was taking the pen to. He could buy another one.

However, when she went in, she did not get shouted at or fired or any of the other nastiness she'd been expecting. In fact, it was all very calm.

"Ms. Okawa." He stated, formally. "If we get any more letters like this-" He casually flicked a letter up to show her, in a pale yellow envelope with a fairly-standard looking logo on it. "This is what I'd like done." He pushed it into the paper shredder under his desk, which whirred as it happily munched it into pieces. As it did so, Okawa frowned. All letters that went to Mr Kaiba had to go through her, but she couldn't recall seeing that one at all. "Also," he continued, handing her a piece of paper with a picture of the envelope, evidentially printed from his computer, and the same instructions typed on it. "I'd like this photocopied, and posted around the building- particularly in offices that receive post."

"Yes sir." Okawa nodded.

"Thank you." He replied, absently, already speaking as though she wasn't there.

"Sir…" She began, hesitantly. He'd thanked her. He'd never done that before. "Is something the matter?"

"Why haven't you left?" He answered, harshly, snapping back to reality. That was better.

Okawa left, putting the pen back in the draw with some relief.

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"It's not like I'm going forever!" Serenity tried, frustrated.

"No, it's not!" Her mom agreed. "You're not going at all!"

"Mom!" Serenity protested. "I just want to see everyone again!"

Her mom snorted. "Your father is dangerous and drunk! And your brother is going the same way! That's some company you keep!"

"He's still my father!" Serenity screamed back. Her usual timid self had gone, its patience worn away over the weeks of this argument, and now it had buckled under the pressure of her temper. She could be just as hot-headed as her brother, when she wanted to be. "It's not like you made me single-handed, mom! Nor Joey! So don't be a hypocrite and stop me visiting him now! Besides, it's Joey I want to see! He saved my eyesight! Remember? Or have you conveniently forgotten! He did a damn sight more then you did! And so did all the others! My friends! So don't you dare stop me going just because you're jealous that I want to spend more time with them then with you!"

"Don't speak to me like that…" Her mother hissed. "You don't need to go there for friends. You have friends here."

"I do?" Serenity asked. "And here was me thinking that you drove them away because you wouldn't let me go out anywhere with them! Not even a sleep over! Well…" She took some deep, shuddering breaths. She couldn't remember being this angry since Kaiba wouldn't stop the blimp when Ryou needed a hospital way back in Battle City. "Well, congrats, 'cause you've not only driven me mad, you've driven me away to!" She grabbed the bag she'd packed, originally intended for a short visit, and made for the door, trying not to let her mom see the tears of rage that were trying to break free, like waves beating the prow of a ship in a storm. This was the final straw. For weeks now, they'd been on rocky ground. Serenity wasn't sure what had passed between her and her mother, but her mom seemed a lot more uptight then usual, particularly on the subject of Joey. She'd hated their dad for a long time now. But Joey… just the way she'd said 'your brother', as though she was not connected to him at all. Serenity didn't know what had transformed her mother into such a tyrant, but she didn't like it. Serenity was finally starting to gain confidence, starting to make friends other then the ones her brother had made in Domino, as her mom had always encouraged, and suddenly the woman didn't like it. She was visiting Joey- and her dad. Joey said he was getting loads better, so she'd give him a second chance. She wanted to see Téa and Yugi and Ryou; she even missed Tristan, Duke and Mai. She felt more at home with them then in this stifled place.

"You'd better not set foot out of that door!" Her mom warned. "If you do, I'm not going to chase you! If you leave now, you won't be back!"

"…I'll be at dads." Serenity said, suddenly wanting to cry more then ever, as if the anger was draining out of her in the form of salty water. She ran from the house as fast as she could. Sure enough, her mom didn't follow.

Serenity knew depression could do funny things to people. She could see that her mom was just trying to hold onto her with everything she had. But enough was enough. She was completely over protective, and if it wasn't for school, Serenity probably wouldn't have been allowed to leave the house at all. Even if her dad ignored her, for a while, it would be nice just to have room to breathe.

"I'm sorry, mom!" She yelled back. "I… I don't know what's happened to you, but I have to go!"

The only reply was a string of abuse and the slamming of a door. Serenity continued down the road towards the train station, crying freely now. She didn't want anyone, especially her mom, to speak to her to like that.

"I'm never going back…" Serenity whispered, trying to reassure herself. "I'm never going back…"

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Ryou's eyes flew open, but for a second the images of flames and fire still lingered before them. As his sleep gave way to the darkness of the night, the smell, and the dreadful laughter, faded away to. He shuddered slightly, but he'd had enough nightmares, visions of his past all mixed up and tossed out night after night, to simply accept them as a natural part of his sleep cycle. But both he and his sheets were soaked, and he'd woken too suddenly and too fully to get back to sleep. He climbed wearily out of bed, knowing there was no point staying in it. He considered changing the sheets now, but the flat was cheap and the walls were thin; he was certain the person below him wouldn't appreciate his slightly poor washing machine trundling on at (Here he checked the clock) twenty to four in the morning. He'd slept later then usual.

Mechanically, he stripped the sheets off and simply dumped them on the floor in his cupboard-sized kitchen, ready to be washed in the morning. He made the bed up with the spare set. And yet, he was still too restless to go back to bed. Grabbing a glass of water, he made his way over to the set of stairs in the corner of his living room.

This was the main reason he'd brought this flat, which, despite it's major discounts, was more expensive then some at the other end of town. He alone had rooftop access. And, as he did most nights, he scaled the stairs and moved out into the cool air of the night. Fleeting images of the Spirit of the Ring and of the house burning and burning flickered across his mind, but he stilled them by tipping some of the ice-cold water down his throat. Refusing to think about it, he sat on the ledge at the edge of the building, not at all concerned by the height, and stared out over the city. He couldn't tell if the sky was cloudy or not, really, as even when it was clear the street lamps blotted out the stars. But he could feel it. The wind was picking up on his mood again, trying to push him over the edge, tempting, alluring.

It would be a wonderful night to call the winds to him and go flying…

Ryou stood up, hastily. "No." He whispered to the winds. "You and I… We don't work together anymore. And if I won't do it for other people, I certainly won't do it for myself." He trudged back down the stairs, not even able to find comfort in the night sky. He was tempted to go for a walk, but suspected if he did he'd end up in the sky. When he'd come to Japan, he had promised he would never use his powers. Recently, the temptation had been getting stronger and stronger. He really couldn't trust himself right now. So, then. He wondered what was on television at ten to four in the morning…

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Joey got his attention in the customary way- by hitting him upside the head. Ryou was becoming rather tempted to buy a helmet or hat of some description, if this trend looked likely to continue. Putting down the comic he'd hardly been reading- having seen the Spiderman films, he'd suddenly got really into it and was trying to catch up on what he'd missed as a child- he greeted them all, rubbing his head, and, as usual, doing a good job at not looking tired at all.

"Hey…" He said, looking across the pair that had descended on him and disturbed his peace as usual. After sleepless nights, Ryou had got into the habit of getting to school very early through lack of anything else to do. "Where's Téa? And Yugi, for that matter."

"Out there, I think." Tristan replied, indicating the doorway to the classroom. "I think Téa somehow detected this girl who starts today and they went to introduce themselves."

"It's strange that she's not only starting half way through a term, but half way through a week…" Ryou frowned. "I guess she just wants to get stuck in."

"I just hope she's hot." Joey sighed.

"If she is, it won't make any difference to you…" Tristan muttered.

"And what's that supposed to mean!"

"It means that no girl would give you a second look, especially not a hot one!"

"Oh, and I suppose you-"

Before the fight could escalate into an all-out war, Ryou ducking down in the middle of no-man's land between them, Yugi and Téa entered with who was presumably the new girl, she looked around in interest.

Ryou blinked, telling himself to calm down. It couldn't be. She was still on the other side of the room. So it could quite possibly be a mere look a like. It had to be. After all, what were the chances…?

Téa dragged the hapless look-a-like over and began making introductions. Close to, the girl was staring at Ryou just as he stared at her.

Not a look a like, then.

"Téa?" She said, suddenly. "Could you show me where the toilets are, please? I… I want to go before form starts."

"But you haven't met-" Yugi began, frowning, but the girl seemed desperate as she dragged Téa away, almost running. Ryou sagged back into his chair in shock. The others looked at him in confusion.

"Ryou…?" Yugi began, not failing to notice that she had run the second she'd got over the apparent surprise of seeing him. "Do you… know her?"

"Yes." Ryou answered, quietly. "I believe I do."

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H

Dreams are the strangest things. They have no bearing on reality, yet they can tell you more about something then you've ever known. They can be good or bad. Mine are usually of the latter, admittedly. Some experts say that they are simply fragments of memories and experiences cobbled together with your imaginings, to allow your mind to 'test drive' different situations and outcomes to decisions. I'm not sure if that's true. Well, saying that, my dreams are usually comprised of different memories put into a blender and spat back out. That's why they're so scary. You see, even though the Ring is gone, and I am no longer trying to be a hero, in my dreams, it's all still there. Still, I almost prefer the bad ones…

They're all still there, in the occasional 'good' dream. That's why dreams can hurt so much. In my dreams, I am no longer half. She's still alive, and we're still with my mother. And to wake up and realise that my sister is dead, and my mother is dead, and that it was my fault; to be alone in the darkness, is the worst thing. Dreams can be an escape from reality for some people. For me, they just bring back the reality I want so desperately to get away from. I wish I could just fly away. But I know that if I do, I shall only bring about the past again. So I shall stay firmly on the ground, I think.

I believe I'm becoming used to these nightmares now. I'm only scared when I'm sleeping. When I'm awake, it's simply routine. Normal.

My mind is so unhealthy. Not unhappy. Just… unhealthy. So unhealthy, it's rather amusing. Someone up there probably finds it hilarious. Probably my sister. She'd tell me to snap out of it, and that would be the end of it. But somehow, it doesn't work quite as well when it's just me telling myself to get over it in the small-hours darkness of my small bedroom.

I have a vivid imagination- I don't think. I blame the television. You should see the junk that's on cable at ten to four in the morning…

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A/N: If that was bad, I apologise- most of this was written after eleven at night, at which point my proof-reading gets somewhat… sloppy. Aka, non-existent. Now, I'm not at all sure about the names of the members of the House. (Sounds like Big Brother, doesn't it?) I know very little, admittedly, of modern Egyptian culture, and so I tried to find some Egyptian names. I could not, bar ancient ones. So instead I just used general Arabic ones, in order to get some semblance of realism. Which reminds me- the 'Professor Bakura' mentioned is, of course, not Ryou, but his father. You probably all knew that, but as I'm feeling slow today I assume you all are. Heh… Next time, A Superhero Story- A White Rabbit… Stay tuned!