A/N: I have been working my butt of to try and get chapters written so that when school starts again I don't get in a slump. My updates will still be infrequent but they will be there. I will not abandon any of my stories so you don't need to worry about that. So…today, I would like to wish you all who celebrate it a Happy Thanksgiving and in order to show how thankful I am for all my readers and reviewers, you get chapter 19 almost a week early. So I hope you enjoy!

Unreal Truths

Chapter 19: Questions

Ryou's POV

I watched in distress as Marik retreated to his room in anger. After weeks of not seeing him and not knowing whether he and Bakura were even alive or not, he finally returns and this is the response I get? It confused me. Though, granted the fact that Mariku had had his hand down my pants could not have possibly helped the situation any. I looked to Mariku, who gave a light shrug of his shoulders and I heaved a light sigh.

"I'm going to go and talk to him." I ran my fingers through my long mane of white hair and walked back to Marik's room. Taking a deep breath I gathered my wits and knocked on the door, speaking softly, "Marik? Can I come in?"

I listened hard but didn't hear any movement from within. Letting out a small sigh, I raised my fist to knock again and was startled as the door creaked open before I could hit the door.

Marik stood there, looking at me with a bleary expression and watery eyes.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and looked down at the hardwood floor, "Can we talk?"

He didn't respond verbally, but he looked down both ends of the hallway before moving back into the bedroom, beckoning me to follow.

I walked in, closing the door behind me and watched as Marik took a seat on the bed and fixed me with an unreadable gaze.

I fidgeted nervously before moving to take a seat beside him.

"Marik listen, I-"

"Ryou, have you ever been in love?"

I blinked in shock at the seemingly random question, "W…What?"

Marik looked down at his hands and fiddled with one of the golden rings on his fingers, which he seemed to do whenever he was on edge or nervous.

Finally after a few agonizing seconds of awkward silence he looked up, his eyes meeting mine, "Have you ever been really and truly in love with someone?"

It was my turn to look down now, and initiate my own nervous habit; playing with a small chunk of my hair.

"Well, I…" I paused and really thought about it. I knew I'd had crushes on people before, both boys and girls alike, but never before had I felt anything remotely close to what I now felt towards Mariku, though I wasn't going to tell Marik that. Not yet at least. I wasn't even sure what it was that I felt for Mariku, somehow the word 'love' just felt wrong.

"To be honest with you Marik…I really don't think so."

He nodded, as if expecting the answer and turned his gaze towards the door.

"I have, and it's such an ugly thing Ryou."

I frowned and gently laid my hand on his lap, not knowing what else to do or what I should say. I didn't know where Marik was going with this conversation, but I did not like it. I may just be paranoid but I was beginning to dread that this was about more than Marik. I was getting worried that he was catching on to Mariku and I and I braced myself for an impending lecture.

Marik continued on, breaking the semi-awkward silence we found ourselves in, "You give your heart and soul to that one person. You entrust them with everything that makes you, you and they are supposed to do the same in return."

He then gave a small shudder and I saw a tear fall down his cheek, "But you have to be careful who you entrust yourself to Ryou, because sometimes, they don't give you the same thing in return and they hold your love for them over you, waiting for the perfect moment to crush you completely."

More silent tears fell down his cheeks and he twisted the comforter of the bed in his hands, his breath hitching every so often.

Somehow I believed this was no longer about Mariku and I.

"Marik…" I wrapped my arms around him and pulled my best friend into a hug.

Then something hit me. Flashbacks from Battle City, just small ones, and overheard conversations coupled with shared memories with Bakura I didn't know I had in the first place.

"…You're talking about Bakura aren't you?"

Marik leaned down and buried his head in his hands, nodding several times as he finally began to cry full out.

I should have known. I really didn't think Marik showed up on my doorstep for the reasons that he said, though I do believe that was part of it. But no, Marik had come to me because I reminded him of Bakura. It was all becoming clear to me now, and I had to admit, I was kind of hurt.

I loosened my comforting hold on him and Marik, noticing, looked up at me, his violet eyes wide and full of tears.

I didn't know what to say to him, but my anger dissipated almost immediately when I saw the intense sorrow and despair in his gaze.

"Ryou…" he seemed to realize the conclusion I had come to and a new emotion came into his eyes; guilt.

I gave a light sigh and opened my mouth to speak but Marik held his hand up to silence me.

"I know what you're thinking, that I only came to you because of Bakura, and well, you're partially right."

I looked away, fighting back the flooding of emotions that came rushing forth and I flinched slightly as Marik lightly laid his hand on my thigh.

"But Ryou, that's not the sole reason I came back to Japan. What I told you when I first arrived was true, I just…left out the Bakura aspect."

I looked up at him and his eyes were begging me to understand.

"You're my best friend Ryou…Please don't let something like this break us apart when we are most in need of each other."

Sighing, I realized how right he really was.

I offered Marik a reassuring smile and I could see his shoulders sag in relief, "It's okay Marik…we're best friends…what kind of person would I be if I turned you away at a time like this. You're right, we need each other, now more than ever and we will make it through." I gave him a confident nod and a tight hug, all previous anger now forgotten.

Marik buried his head in my shoulder and let out a sigh of relief, "Thank you Ryou…You don't know what this means to me."

I smiled and held him tighter, "What are best friends for?"

Bakura's POV

I watched as my former landlord walked back to Marik's room, his face set with a determined look.

Sighing, I looked to Mariku who had moved to the recliner on the opposite side of our living room, "Okay Mariku. What exactly is going on here?"

He looked at me with a cool smirk on his face, "I have no idea what you are talking about Bakura."

I scowled and crossed my arms, "Don't you try and bullshit me Marik." I realized my slip-up a fraction of a second before he corrected me.

"Mariku. I have my own name now." His expression turned irritated immediately.

I sighed and fixed him with a look, "Well excuse me mister pissy pants."

He merely cocked his eyebrow and continued to gaze at me with those unnerving violet eyes.

Giving a light groan I shook my head, "What was all that about?"

He blinked, "What was what all about?"

I was beginning to get frustrated with the Egyptian yami, "Don't play dumb. You and Ryou. What's going on?"

He tilted his head to the side, "Nothing is going on Bakura."

"You're lying to me."

"Am I?" He shifted his position ever so slightly.

"Yes Mariku, you are." I crossed my arms, "Ryou didn't seemed too turned off by your touching."

"And that is a problem why?"

This conversation was going nowhere fast, and I was beginning to get suspicious of Mariku. He seemed to be dodging all my questions, sending them off in all different directions.

"It was awful intimate touching."

"And once again, I ask your point."

I gave an exasperated sigh, "What is going on between you and my host?"

He just gave me a knowing smirk and flicked his bangs out of his eyes, "Nothing."

"Bullshit."

He slowly got up out of his chair and stalked towards me.

Now, I have never been afraid of Mariku before, but that didn't mean I didn't stay on guard whenever he was around. I would be stupid to think the psychotic yami was harmless, because he wasn't. I slowly moved my hand down to my side where my knife rested and he mimicked my movement, his left hand sliding to the millennium rod. I wasn't expecting a fight, but that didn't mean one wouldn't go down.

"Do you have a problem with me touching Ryou?"

"No."

He chuckled, "Now who is the one who is lying."

"Listen Mariku, I don't give a flying fuck what you do to my former host, he is nothing to me."

The millennium rod flashed briefly and I felt something akin to a cool breeze rush through my mind, flashes of memories and feelings arising.

A slow smirk formed on Mariku's face, "Liar."

I suddenly felt furious as the rod's glow faded, "What did you just do?"

"The same thing I did to Fluffy several days ago; accessed your memories."

"What!" I stood up and pulled my knife, "What the hell?"

Mariku had the rod out in an instant and was pointing it at me and it began to glow, again I felt the wind but this time I was prepared and the millennium ring glowed in response from around my neck, bouncing his assault right back at him.

We both cried out as a blinding light filled the room and I was assaulted with flashbacks. Memories that were mine and one that wasn't.

The first memory I have of this world I had was one of pain, and not just any pain. It was blinding, the sort of pain that leaves a permanent imprint on the mind.

It was traveling all through my body, though I noticed it was centralized on my back.

I then heard a whimper and a weak voice inside my mind, 'Please, make it stop. Just make it go away.'

The pain may have been agonizing, but I could deal with it. This child, the one crying for help, my other self I recognized, could not. That, I realized, was the reason I was now here; to ease his torment.

"Don't worry," I purred, "Everything will be alright, just let me take control and I will make everything okay again." What a naïve child my other self was.

His response was immediate and I felt rather than heard it as he nodded and suddenly the pain intensified tenfold and I was bombarded by dozens of other sensations; A cold stone table underneath me as I lay on my stomach, rough rope around my wrists and ankles kept me tightly pressed against said table, a bland tasting cloth in my mouth and cold hands running along my back along with a heated and sharpened knife were all the unwelcomed feelings that accompanied me into this new world of experience.

I immediately bit back on the scream that my other self had been in the middle of and I focused my attention on my surroundings.

The chamber I was currently in was dark save for the flickering light of the torches that lined the walls on all sides, making it hard to see anything and the air was cold and oppressive.

There was movement above me and I had to bite back yet another scream as the blade was once again pressed down onto the flesh of my back.

What was going on here?

'It's the initiation.'

I blinked and looked around before realizing it was only the voice of my other self, resting painlessly inside of my mind.

'The what?'

'The Tombkeeper's initiation. It's a ritual every first born Ishtar son must go through.' His voice was quiet, scared, and sad.

'That still doesn't explain anything.' My muscles relaxed as the person with the knife moved away, giving me a brief moment of clarity.

'I…it's…who are you?'

I blinked, not expecting the sudden change in conversation. I went to respond but realized I didn't know the answer, 'I don't know…I…think I am you.'

'Me? But…how?'

I shrugged and immediately regretted the action as pain shot down through my shoulders and my back erupted in agony.

'I don't feel the pain anymore.'

I gave a low growl, 'Well lucky you then.'

He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his voice just above a whisper in my head, 'Thank you...'

I sighed lightly and mumbled, "You're welcome…"

I nearly jumped out of my skin when a deep voiced rumbled in response to my mistakenly spoken statement.

"What was that Marik? You've gone awfully quiet, are you okay?"

'Sure, now he asks.'

I hushed my other self, this time making sure I did it in my head and slowly turned my neck so I could see the man behind me.

"I'm fine father. Just, fantastic."

I gave him an evil smirk, feeling entirely satisfied when his expression turned fearful.

I think I was to like this thing called life.

Mariku's POV

Screams pierced the night air, echoing off the buildings around me as I ran frantically down an abandoned street.

I could not wrap my mind around the horrid sight I had just witnessed; family, friends and neighbors being forcefully horded together and then pushed into a large bubbling cauldron, their death cries deafening in the small and cramped room we were in.

I had stood glued to the spot, unable to budge an inch or tear my eyes away from the savage scene.

After what seemed like an eternity but was in actuality more like five minutes, I was able to realize the immense danger I was in just standing around and I bolted from the room as fast as I could.

I inhaled deeply once I reached the outside and looked around desperately, seeking out any possible exit.

There seemed to be no where I could turn, every house I encountered was engulfed in flames and every other street had soldiers rounding up my neighbors and friends, hoarding them toward the other end of town where I had just escaped from.

My father's words echoed in my head, telling me to run and get as far away as I could, not to worry about him and mother, that the only thing that mattered was my safety.

I wiped fearful and angry tears away from my cheeks. I didn't understand what was going on. We had never provoked anyone, just stealing when necessary, taking what we needed for survival and nothing more.

I gave out a squeak of surprise as I nearly ran right into a guard and went stumbling to the ground. He looked down, eyes widening in surprise, "WE GOT A LIVE ONE OVER HERE."

I wasted no time in twisting my hips, flipping myself over and rolling to my feet. I couldn't afford to be caught, not now, not when I was so close to the exit.

I ducked underneath the soldier's arm as he reached for me and pushed my already burning legs harder. If I was caught it would forever be the end of me and the Tozokuo family name, and I owed it to my father to escape, live on, and exact revenge on the Pharaoh and his men for this horrid and inhumane act.

"HE'S GETTING AWAY!"

The guards were in a flurry now, all running after one frightened and frantic little child. Why would it matter if I got away? Why such the fuss? Evidently it was a big deal because they didn't let up.

My legs started to shake, they weren't used to this much exertion and it was starting to take its toll.

I gave out a cry as I was grabbed from behind and tugged to the ground. "I GOT HIM!"

I began thrashing as wildly as I could, trying my hardest to break the hold but to no avail.

The guard sneered and tightened his hold, "Just give it up little thief, you're not going anywhere."

I jerked in his hold again, looking around for anything that might help me.

It was then I saw it, a discarded dagger, lying just within my reach and I knew that I had to make a decision; kill or be killed.

Biting past the tears and the rising feeling of dread in my stomach, I reached out and firmly grasped the jeweled dagger in my hand.

I took a brief moment to look it over; the hilt was molded from gold and was lined along the edge in rubies with 'TK' crudely carved on the bottom.

It was my father's.

With a rage I didn't know I possessed, I turned and slammed the blade deep into the guards throat.

His eyes widened, not expecting such a move from a mere child, but I was anything but a mere child.

I pulled the dagger out and watched as the guard fell to the ground, choking on his own blood.

I stood there, staring in horror at what I had done. I could not believe that I had just killed a man in cold blood. Life and death situation put aside, I had killed someone, and it had felt good.

Glancing one last time at the guard, I shoved the dagger in the waistband of my kilt underneath my robes and took off running once again.

Finally I broke free of the walls of Kul Elna, the cold desert wind freely beating against my face.

I continued running until I was a safe distance away before I fell to my hands and knees and threw up everything that had been in my stomach from that day, which sadly wasn't much at all.

The hilt of my father's dagger pressed against my side and the bile once again rose in my throat and I dry heaved several times before I fell to the side, landing on my back and staring up at the night sky with a blank look on my face.

I felt my body shudder and I bit back the tears that prickled my eyes.

I was all alone now. Left to fend for myself. Never again would I see the faces of my family and friends, at least not in this life.

After a brief moment of mourning I slowly got to my feet and looked off into the distance.

This was my future now; endless desert skies and lonely nights.

And for that, the Pharaoh and everyone else at the palace would pay dearly.

I gasped as the vision ended and I found myself tangled with Bakura on the ground.

After taking a few seconds to recover, I shakily got to my feet and looked down at the tomb robber, extending my hand to help him up.

Bakura looked up at me, his expression confused and saddened, and I saw the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

Just as I saw what memory of mine he experienced, he must have saw which one of his I had seen.

And that was one memory I am glad wasn't my own.

"Bakura…" I held my hand out to him expectantly.

He looked up at me, eyes filled with pain, "You saw that too?"

I didn't say anything and he pushed himself to his feet, shoving my hand aside.

"Bakura…"

He just shook his head and walked to the kitchen, pulling the refrigerator door open and snatching a beer from the shelf, "I don't want to hear it." He cracked the can open and took several deep gulps.

I leaned against the doorway and watched him with a blank gaze, a new feeling gnawing at the pit of my stomach.

I was getting a lot of those lately.

Bakura sighed and ran his fingers through his hair and it was then that my eyes were drawn to the dagger at his side.

It had a long and slightly curved blade with a golden hilt with ruby inlay along the edge, and at the very bottom, was the inscription 'TK'.

I must have made a sound of disbelief because he looked up at me then followed my line of sight.

Heaving a small sigh, he reached down with his free hand and pulled the dagger free of its holder, "Yeah…it's the same one…I found it in a museum…"

"So that's what you took." I smirked and crossed my arms and he grinned in return.

"Yeah this is what I took." He twirled it deftly between his fingers before sliding it back into its sheath, "I couldn't believe it when I saw it, but it is most definitely the same one." He smiled and patted the hilt fondly before taking another swig of his beer.

I nodded and walked over to the fridge, grabbing a beer of my own before leaning on the counter beside him, "Well I can appreciate a good blade when I see one, and you definitely have one there."

Bakura leaned against the sink and I joined him, both of us taking long drags from our beer cans, "Yes, my father always had an eye for quality."

We just stood there then, in a moment of silence and respect for those souls lost that night in Kul Elna. Them, and the shattered innocence of two young boys.