There's more to life than Duel Monsters Chapter 10: Trouble Brewing, a yu-gi-oh fanfic

There's more to life than Duel Monsters.

Ch10: Trouble Brewing.

Thanks to everyone for their reviews, you guys remind me I ought to keep writing. : ) Aw, look at me all gushy. But seriously, I'm a quitter and it amazes me I got this far. Hmm, sorry, late night and too much sugar, coffee and pep talk. Well, the show must go on.

The Dream of Malik Ishtar… or Bakura?

It was India, but not quite India. It was a dream in fact and Malik knew this because this India was what India would look like if all the stereotypes were true and everywhere you looked you could see a view that would grace a postcard. That, and the sky was purple at high noon.

There was not a cloud to be seen as Malik followed his feet through the streets. They looked like they knew where they were going and the one time he'd tried to stop them, he'd fallen over, so he was just along for the ride.

This place seemed familiar in a weird and unsettling way. It wasn't the scenery or the people for every car seemed to be a taxi and he had already had two shop owners telling him to 'please, come again'. It was something behind the accented English and tea drinking monks in shrines to multi limbed gods.

It was something in their eyes – the world was happy and that worried him. Because he knew there was going to be a hanging today. Somehow, he just knew that this was about him, and that this was the end. In fact, now that he thought about it, it seemed obvious. He was going to the jail.

As he realized this, he was faced with a giant palace, brightly coloured and decorated, but beneath it grey stoned, well guarded and harder to break out of than Alcatraz. He was shown by a waiting guard through a door in the outer wall and down a long passage to the cells.

This was nonsense of course. He concurrently knew that what had really happened was that he had been shown inside, seated, waited for hours, been shown into an office, talked with the man inside, made him laugh with his plea, got escorted to the head of the guard, with a message that made all the guards laugh as it was read aloud and at last escorted down a long passage to the cells.

Dreams have a way of speeding things along and putting all the information you may need to make sense of things, directly into your brain.

Malik watched as the guard opened the heavy wooden door, and waited until Malik walked inside, closing it behind him. He had until sundown in this cell; the hanging was at sundown. He just hoped that the fall would be neck breaking – mercifully quick.

He felt movement behind him and turned. There, as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, on a bed that looked like a wide wooden shelf, sat a boy that looked almost identical to Ryou. All except for the way he sat in fact – lounging with one leg swinging off the bed, looking at Malik with his head cocked to one side.

"You know, they only use these cells for conjugal visits. Not that I mean to imply anything by that, it figures this was the only way we can talk in private – the guards here prefer not to listen; they even have a code of honour. I just thought that it was funny, that's all." The boy didn't smile to back up his statement, in fact he looked a bit dazed and tired and thoughtful.

It was still Ryou's politeness and insight, but there was an undertone of purpose that made it seem something else altogether – like a very well insulated cover for a very hot dish. Malik's heart, seemingly oblivious, beat a bit faster at the idea of conjugal visits.

It has to be Ryou though, there aren't two people in the world that look like that, and isn't this my dream? Then this must be Ryou.

"You're not yourself." He volunteered lightly.

The dream Ryou nodded absentmindedly, gesturing with his right hand, in which he held something that glimmered in the light as he moved. "They do last requests here, you know, last meal and all that. I skipped the meal and went for a mirror instead, so I'm a bit out of it. But I suppose that if you're really you, and not my hallucination, you didn't mean that."

He paused, thinking. "Mirrors are great things, they let you really see yourself. " He added at last, cryptically.

Malik smiled kindly at the boy and moved closer, concerned for the other's welfare. "You really ought to get some food in you."

The dream Ryou looked surprised for a moment, then gracefully stood up and walked forward to peer into Malik's eyes in the dim light, his face an inch away. It was too dark to see the colour of the boy's eyes.

Malik stood frozen to the spot in confusion, feeling his cheeks heat up at the proximity and scrutiny.

"You're not him, are you? No you can't be. He'd know." Malik could feel the boy's breath warm his lips. The boy smiled. "Malik, if memory serves. Excuse me for this improper introduction. This was not quite the way…"

The boy stepped back and visibly shook himself. This seemed to have the effect of making him even less like Ryou. The tiredness was gone too, Malik noticed as the boy smirked and moved back to sit on the wooden bench.

"This is some trip, huh. Please sit down Malik, call me Bakura – that's what your other self does, and as you share one body you must understand why I was a bit confused." He gestured for Malik to sit down on the floor and Malik sat.

"That and lack of food." Malik volunteered. The tone of the dream had changed. The hanging wasn't really looming ahead anymore, but was politely set aside for now.

Bakura glanced around the cell. "This? It isn't really your dream kid. Maybe it's something that got left behind when your body housemate was evicted."

Malik looked around, trying to apply some logic to this, from what little he had learned of spirits as tombkeeper. For only a spirit – a bodiless soul – could inhabit the body of another, theoretically. "It would have to be something that was important enough to heavily imprint Namu… I think."

Bakura smirked and shrugged gracefully. "Who knows? Maybe your Namu just likes dungeons. Something for you to ask him perhaps. But back to the food issue. You must know there is no point in me eating now – I get hung at sunset."

Malik nodded, surprised that the comment was not followed by a bundle of information in his mind as to why. "Why?"

Bakura smiled ruefully. "Never put yourself in a situation where you have to rely on your co-workers for anything. Or perhaps it's just that you can't trust thieves on a heist."

Malik smiled. "Sounds like common sense to me."

Bakura nodded. "So it is. But sometimes you have a bad year and go against your better judgement just to spite the world. You should try everything at least once and all that."

Malik nodded in understanding. That's how it is for me most of the time. "When the luck's against you, and you're grasping at invisible straws, there's nothing for it but to roll with the punches."

Bakura laughed, and it was rich and warm and somehow secret, echoing off the walls in the dim rosy light. "I love the way you express yourself Malik."

There was a knock, then a guard came to open the door, and Malik got up, as the guard strolled past him.

Bakura stood and the atmosphere was once again serious. "Don't worry, it'll be quick." he said as he and the guard walked out of the cell, leaving Malik behind.

"Are you just saying that for my benefit?" Malik called to the pair.

"Maybe." Came the teasing reply.

Malik looked around the cell and didn't follow his feet when they decided they wanted to leave. He just fell onto the floor, lay on his back and stared at the ceiling in this room, listening to the echoes of the strange soul's laughter until the red of the sunset gave way to the violet of dusk.

Isis, he is nothing like Ryou. Was that real? Can that spirit really come into my dreams? Or was I in his? Do spirits dream? I wish I could talk to Ryou like that.

The Dream of Malik Ishtar… or Bakura?

Yugi Moto sat in class, looking out of the window at the red, gold, orange, brown and acidic yellow leaves, which were the only dash of colour in an otherwise cold and grey world on the other side of the glass.

Yep. Autumn is definitely here. Orange, red and gold.

Gold. Yugi sighed. It was getting to be a habit with him these days. Mostly he just missed the comforting weight of the puzzle around his neck. Well, it was more than that but that was all his heart was willing to offer at this time.

It was as if he felt slightly less competent in life without it.

I could not have beaten Seto Kaiba in that tournament without it, I just know that. How am I supposed to win at Pegasus's duellist kingdom? Heart of the cards. Right.

On Sunday, he had received an invitation package from Maxemillion Pegasus – a name and face he was unlikely to forget in a while. He'd received two cards – one with money and one blank, the video, and a duelling glove and two starchips in lieu of an invitation, which he would have to present to be admitted onto the ship that would take him to the secret island this tournament was taking place on.

The only reason he had accepted it, with his grandfather in a coma was because Pegasus had said he had stolen his grandfather's soul, and to get it back Yugi would have to win the tournament.

His grandfather had been on the tape, asking for his help and that had been compelling evidence. Then Pegasus had taken him to what looked like another dimension for a bit, and Yugi had never heard of someone being able to induce a hallucination via videotape. Mostly, though, he believed Pegasus because he wanted to believe he could help his grandfather get better, that it wasn't just old age or a bad heart or fate.

So he had decided to go. This was his second tournament and he was wrong when he thought the first was the hardest. People knew him now. All the same people that had been there before – the cream of the crop, would be watching him – the boy who beat Seto Kaiba, to see if he falls flat on his face. This time, people noticed, people cared and he had no puzzle or Exodia.

Thankfully, there turned out to be no issues apart from the tournament itself in his way. His friends had decided that they'd come no matter what, even Anzu who would usually be the first to point out that they did not have invitations.

But then Anzu had said that Mai would be flying in for the tournament.

She did, however put a stop to Jounochi's idea of beating up three other kids who'd been invited so that all of them could have one 'glove an' stuff' each. The worry about how to get on the boat was put off till later.

Malik had woken up and shown up at the hospital on Sunday, to everyone's delight. He had also managed to score an invitation off Shadi, as soon as he had heard that they were all going. It was he that pointed out that since the tournament was in the lead up to Halloween and the finals on the night of the same, they would have to ask for time off school.

This was no problem for the two group members who had been invited. The school looked kindly on students participating in world class championships.

Jounochi had played the 'family' card and got time off to help his sister, because the school had no way of knowing that she would have her bandages off soon. Shizuka could not go because both Jounochi and her mother were dead set against her 'gallivanting' off on some adventure just as she got her eyesight back. It was one of the few things they agreed about. This was funny, because nobody had actually suggested that Shizuka might want to go, including the girl herself.

Anzu had gotten time off to look after Yugi's mother in his absence – something that Shizuka said she wanted to do. Honda had gotten it by saying that he had to keep Mr. Moto company and that Yugi couldn't go if he was worried about his grandfather; which was pushing it a bit, but then the teachers liked Yugi. Yugi himself thought that the nurses would have taking care of his grandfather covered and that the doctors had to be well qualified, and that visits from Shizuka and his mom would suffice.

They didn't have to do anything to organize transportation because Mai would be coming, and even then all they had to do was to get to the city docks, as the island was nearby. In fact logically speaking, the whole thing so far was turning out to be amazingly easy.

I'm just tired from sitting at the hospital until late for a week and a half – that's why everything looks so gloomy. That and the abysmal weather. I should really concentrate on my studies from now on so I can get ahead, to make up for what I'll miss during the tournament.

With that thought, Yugi turned back to the electrically lit classroom which reminded him of the surgical light in the hospital, and concentrated on the teacher, as the wind howled outside.

Seto Kaiba sat in class, typing on his laptop. It had not been a good week and it looked like it would get worse.

Something was up, Seto knew, because the Big Five suddenly needed him to do everything. He couldn't argue with the logic that he was the best man for the job, and it was important that everything would be ready in time for his tournament, and that everything ran smoothly on the day.

But they would never admit that I am better than them, however true it may be.

Lately he spent most of his spare time working, negotiating permits and settling disputes.

Mokuba was a constant worry as well, for he hung out with Otogi so much, he had begun to pick things up. One thing in particular was that Mokuba was really conscientious, he cared about doing things right, he cared in general, he couldn't help it. But with Otogi's influence, he started pretending he wasn't bothered by anything – Seto could see it was fake, because Mokuba couldn't keep doing it all the time, especially when things went wrong. It didn't help that Seto did not have even five minutes to spend with his brother.

And things always went wrong around Otogi. It was like he walked in the eye of a tornado, because none of it seemed to touch him.

That idiot is going to send my insurance through the roof. The day I went to get the fourth Blue Eyes he nearly set fire to the house by leaving the stove on, with the dishcloth tossed casually onto it. It's good I don't hire inferior staff or we would have had to rebuild the kitchen for sure.

Seto shook his head and went back to his typing. He had to concentrate because there was a lot of work to be done, and he had to get the minimum three hours of sleep to function properly. This was the latest draft of the application for the necessary permits to section off the centre of Domino for his tournament this coming spring. It would probably not be the last.

Ryou Bakura was sitting in class, waiting for the bell to ring. Otogi was sitting beside him, chatting away to a couple of girls as he worked.

Ryou had already done all the problems and his homework and was now looking blankly at Malik, who was avidly passing notes with Jounochi and Honda.

It feels really good to see him back to normal, or, Ryou amended, it feels good to see him back.

After being unconscious for a week, both Rashid, and Ryou – who received a key to the apartment from Rashid and tried to visit when the other boy was out – were beginning to get very worried.

Last Sunday, Malik finally awoke during a visit from Ryou, none the worse for the experience. He then sat down and caught up on all the news, with Rashid's help and all his homework, with Ryou's help. Not stopping for a break, he went off to the hospital to visit Yugi.

Ryou had then had the unsettling experience of being driven home on the back of Malik's motorbike, on his way to the hospital. The compounded effect of Malik's driving and the motorbike itself made him decide that for his peace of mind, next time, he would walk…

…The bell rang and he turned to Otogi as he packed up.

"Thankyou for inviting me to stay at Pegasus's castle. If you are sure he won't mind..."

Otogi smirked, looking away from the girls, "Sure as sure can be. He's relaxed about visitors."

"I will call and let you know if I can make it."

Otogi nodded. "Anytime, day or night. Preferably soon."

Having packed his back, Bakura bowed 'see you tomorrow' to Otogi, as the latter smirked, shaking his head and turned back to the girls.

Bakura left school as quickly as he could, successfully avoiding the notice of teachers and students who were starting the regular school cleanup. He was glad that Ryou was too worried about being put in a mental hospital to join any of the after school clubs as he got into a waiting cab – he had called his cab company at lunchtime to pick him up after school.

He had several appointments to keep tonight with some people who knew what on earth was going on.

He gave Ryou's home address.

This had all started when he was called by the pawnbroker about a 'special item' that had just come in that might just suit him.

It turned out he was right – a reasonably interesting job and pay like you wouldn't believe. So Bakura didn't believe it.

The Kaiba mansion, alright. Straightforward breaking and entering and theft, fine. It's difficult and plenty of people out there would pay good money to someone who could do it.

But here is the problem – the people that would pay and the people that could pay are entirely different cliques. And it's too much money. It's rare enough when they overpay, and nobody overpays this much.

So it got Bakura thinking. Who was paying him? Because the pawnbroker didn't get a cut, the one who offered the job must be the one he worked for. Who did the pawnbroker work for?

And what the HELL would someone with that much money want with the outfit worn by Seto Kaiba on the day he lost to Yugi Moto? Fans are crazy, but crazy people don't get this rich or run such a slick operation.

And after a week, he had gotten appointments with some people that had all the answers. Not by themselves, mind you, but collectively. And the last appointment of the evening was in the dodgy part of town, in a bar that was frequented by people with very interesting fetishes.

Marik would feel right at home there I think.

And because these people had all gotten away with their hobbies for years and become reasonably successful in life, Bakura was going home to get changed. It wasn't a place for schoolboys.

Malik Ishtar had followed the boy this far and he didn't intent to stop now. He parked.

This was not a nice place. The taxi had driver taken off almost as soon as the boy paid him – he started driving as the passenger door was being closed.

But he went in, so it can't be all that bad.

Malik pushed the door and went inside.

It was hard to see because of the smoke, but he managed to get to the bar. The boy wasn't anywhere in sight.

Malik sat down, dropping his school bag at his feet, and peered through the gloom, trying to read the menu.

"What're you drinkin' luv?" said a deep voice behind him, the smell of alcohol wafting his way.

Malik turned, to face the beefy man, smiling at his predicament. This produced a similar reaction in the man, only his turned out to be an ugly grimace – he seemed too drunk to have complete control of his facial muscles.

Just as he was about to ask if there was anything good here, what sounded like a scuffle broke out behind the man – it was too dark and smoky to see. The man turned around slowly, and looked at it as if trying to figure out what was going on. Meanwhile, the scuffle radiated outwards until it became a full flung bar brawl, the bartender nowhere in sight – probably hiding behind the bar.

Or joining in; this seems to be that kind of place.

The only person not involved was Malik, because it was hard to see and he was by the bar near the door, away from most of the patrons. This peace though, could not last and as Malik sat there contemplating the failure of his errand amidst the noise and fluing debris, a hooded Ryou appeared out of the fog, moving purposefully between the men, occasionally accompanied by a scream of pain.

As he got to Malik, Malik realized that the boy's eyes were a deep ruby red. It was Bakura.

"Get out." The boy said, pulling Malik off the stool, and then pushing him towards the door.

Malik didn't have to be told twice, and when he got out into the relatively fresher air, he didn't stop until he was on his motorbike, hand on the key in the ignition.

As every instinct screamed at him to run and the loudest sound he heard was his heart beat, he waited. Soon, the door opened, spilling out a running Bakura.

"Go, go!" He ordered, hopping on behind Malik, as the latter started the engine. In no time, they were speeding away, the wind dispelling the strong metallic scent of blood coming from Bakura.

What if he's hurt? Am I worried about him or Ryou? Who cares! I'm worried, and it's gonna have to wait.

Malik concentrated on driving more that he had ever done before, as Bakura purred directions in his ear, wordlessly parked, followed Bakura up to the apartment, watched him unlock the door, walked in and watched him lock it behind them.

His heart was beating a touch faster than normal, as he took Bakura's arm, dragging him to the sink, turning on the lights and pulling off his hooded top. Both of them proceeded to wash the blood off Bakura's chest.

As soon as he could se that Bakura's skin was unbroken, Malik sighed, realising he'd been holding his breath. Thank Isis he isn't hurt!

With that thought, Malik glanced up to see a crooked smile on Bakura's face and realized he could be doing something more useful.

Malik left to go get a towel from the bathroom. By the time he had come back, Bakura had finished washing, had left his hooded top soaking in the sink and left a wet flick-knife on the counter.

Still a bit shaken up, Malik only noticed that Bakura's jeans had escaped unbloodied as he tossed Bakura the towel.

Malik then escaped to Ryou's bedroom to lean back against the wall, a happy grin forming on his face as he sighed with relief and tried to get his heart to beat at a more normal pace.

Malik smirked sneakily as another late realization hit him. Gods he looks good.

Just as Malik thought he had his heart rate under control and was getting ready to go back lest Bakura started wondering what had become of him, the boy himself stepped into the room, still wearing just the jeans and that crooked smile.

Malik looked into the red eyes, shimmering in the light that filtered in from the kitchen, and was mesmerised.

"I don't usually resort to drawing blood, not physically. I am a thief, blood is… Namu's department." He purred as he walked up, stopping a couple of inches away.

Malik smirked as his heart rate jumped and stated defiantly, "I am not Namu."

Bakura nodded, as he got closer, a wet strand of hair dripping on his collarbone. "Strictly speaking, neither am I Ryou, does it matter?" He asked teasingly, looking into Malik's eyes.

Considering the half naked Bakura in the dim light made his entire body warm up in the chilly apartment, and having just watched him draw blood, Malik opted for blunt honesty. "Not really." He grinned as Bakura pressed against him, both unable to hide anything from each other at this proximity.

Bakura, bracing himself on the wall, leaned forward, past Malik, to whisper in his ear. "My thoughts exactly."

The hot breath on his ear, and the hair tickling his face, sent shivers down Malik's spine, and he felt goosebumps appear on his arms.

It took a couple of seconds to register Bakura's kiss on his neck, and by then, a tingling line could be traced to his mouth following a trail of urgent kisses.

Namu wasn't there. Ryou wasn't there. Bakura risked his life without a moment's thought to help Malik, without so much as mentioning the incident afterwards. But most of all, Malik was strongly aware that Bakura's soft hair smelt of berries and his mouth tasted of those coffee lollies Rashid had brought home once.

Soon, they lay on the bed, covered by only a light sheet, the blanket lying beside them, ready for when their bodies cooled down a little.

Malik lay on his back smiling as he investigated the light playing on the ceiling, feeling the pleasant weight of Bakura lying almost on top of him, feather-soft white hair brushing against his left ear. The scent of the hair mingled with that of coffee, and Malik could feel the warmth of Bakura's breath on his neck. He could feel Bakura's every breath and heartbeat, hair tickled him if either of them moved.

It felt right. It surprised Malik to think that while he still wanted Ryou no less than before, he had stumbled onto something he wanted just as much. He wanted to keep this… perfection, forever… as well.

He's so much like Ryou, yet so different.

For the first time in his life, Malik found being around somebody relaxing. Even around Rashid he had to tread carefully when it came to some things, for example his personal safety. He couldn't do anything too crazy in front of his friends, so he had to watch himself constantly and he wouldn't even begin to go into the rest of his nearest and dearest.

But Bakura seems to accept me, just me, all of me, taking everything in his stride, like us being near each other, talking, like our entire relationship is a fact of life. We've only known each other one day.

This thought put forward the notion that maybe Malik was being delusional. Deciding to test this, Malik mused aloud. "Can one be in love with two people at once?"

It was a question he did want to ask, but it contained two notions that would result in a quick retreat in all but the most accepting of relationships. These were 'love' and 'two people'. An out was if Bakura did not take him seriously, but that would also be bad because it would mean that there could be no real acceptance because Bakura plainly could not see who Malik really was.

That was the logic Malik felt run through his head after he spoke. He returned to reality to hear the reply.

Some time passed for consideration, then Malik felt Bakura chuckle against him, coffee laced breath trailing warm puffs of air from his neck to his ear. "That depends on how you define people."

Satisfied with his proof, Malik left it at that and snaked his arms around Bakura's waist. Soon, Bakura followed suit, and Malik had to lift both of them up a little to make it doable.

However, curiosity nagged at him and he had to ask before he dozed off. "Could I have you and Ryou?"

Bakura took a while to answer, smiling against Malik's chest, which muffled his reply somewhat. "You'll have to ask Ryou, but I don't see why not. If I get you and Namu."

"Would you?" the question came out of Malik's mouth bypassing his brain – not a rare occurrence.

"I always get what I want." Bakura replied forcefully, pulling his arms out from around Malik. Then he relaxed, resting one on Malik's chest palm down. "But it will take some time – Namu will mind." Bakura chucked it's going to be funny when he finds out what I've known since India."

"What's that?" Malik asked, curious.

"It's a surprise." Bakura kissed Malik's chest lightly. "Sleep."

Malik wanted to know, but closed his eyes, his resigned sigh turning into a yawn. Madness was the way of the world and he'd find out eventually.

It's weird but somehow I know Bakura would never lie. The same way I knew he accepted me and I was right on that score.

He drifted off as he felt the warm blanket being drawn over both of them by Bakura.

Yugi and the others went off to their various clubs, as always, after lessons had finished. The school day wasn't really over yet, and Malik had disappeared somewhere but nobody was surprised.

When they were cleaning the classroom, Jounochi said that Malik probably just wanted to skip his cleanup duties, and everyone was sure that was what had happened until Honda pointed out that Malik had asked him to tell Ludo he wasn't coming to work today. Anzu had said that maybe it was a family emergency, then she blushed and everybody had looked at Yugi and gone back to cleaning.

The jury was still out on why Malik had vanished so suddenly. Yugi got the feeling that this was something that would never be explained, and it didn't really bother him.

I'm sure it is important, but if something bad had happened, he would tell us.

After class, Yugi walked to the classroom allocated for maths club, which, as he recently found out, he had with Kaiba. Yugi figured Seto had to waste some time because the popular Otogi was going home after judo club – of which he, to Honda's surprise, had become president almost as soon as he joined; Honda was also doing judo. Malik had joined kendo, and was reputedly doing very well. Jounochi had gone to the soccer club practice and Anzu had a dance club meeting.

There wasn't much to the maths club really. They did problems and helped the more junior students with homework or asked for help from the older students. They did all calculations by hand, so no computers were allowed. Their math teacher was the supervisor for their club but she didn't do much, except for chat to some of the students about this and that; she was very approachable.

Some of them were in the school chess team, which tended to overlap with some of the other clubs, so they frequently had people come in who weren't in the club at all. The only activity they had as a club were the math competitions and chess tournaments – although there was only a small number of them competing, the others were expected to cheer them on.

Kaiba has been first chair on the chess team for as long as Yugi had been at the school, but nobody ever saw him practice. Seto Kaiba was the exception to the no computer rule, ever since the one day last week when the teacher confiscated it for the duration of the meeting. He now mainly just typed on his computer, which considering how his cold blue eyes and harsh manner tended to make people nervous, was a good arrangement all round. Everybody, even the kids in the year above them stayed out of his way.

Yugi had not chosen this club because he particularly liked math. He was good at it true, and it beat the sports clubs where the kids would have made fun of him, but he was good at all subjects. Yugi could have as easily chosen science or English, but to do science outside of normal school time you had to really be into it and English was just one language whereas math was a universal one.

And his mum had liked the sound of math club best.

For him, it was just something to do before he met up with his friends after school. He usually just took out his deck and went through it after doing his homework. It was a good time to reflect on the duels he had seen at the tournaments and regionals, the strengths and weaknesses of certain kinds of monsters, of the debate for and against collecting just one type, the pro side being the one winning currently, with the support of such players as Rex Raptor – dinosaurs and Weevil Underwood – bugs.

Yugi took out his homework, and then walked up to the teacher to ask for some work so he could get ahead in math to make up for the classes he would miss by going to the tournament.

The tournament…heart of the cards…grandpa's soul…everybody watching…no pressure.

Seto smirked when Otogi announced on the drive home that he was going to stay in Duellist Kingdom during Halloween.

Good riddance. Some peace and quiet for a while, maybe I can show Mokuba the world I've been developing.

Seto valued external criticism especially on a computer game from a brother that couldn't go a day without playing something. Seto's reverie was interrupted by Otogi, who was leaning his head back on his hands, and surveying the black ceiling of the limo.

"You know, he wants you to come and play in the tournament."

"Hn." Seto replied. In his books, Pegasus wanting him to come was a very good reason not to go.

There was a long pause while Otogi looked out of the tinted window. But complete silence until they reached the mansion was more than Seto could reasonably hope for.

"You realize you're not doing your reputation any good; nobody has seen you play after that time in the park. People are saying you crashed and aren't coming back because you're scared of Yugi Moto. People…"

"Get out." Seto replied, as they had reached the mansion gates.

Otogi glanced at Seto, smirked and got out of the limo. Before he closed the door, he had a little parting comment. "You may not care, but Mokuba does."

Git. Seto thought as the door slammed.

He was planning a grand comeback to the world of duelling and it would not be wasted on Pegasus's little fetish with its winner receiving the controversial title of King of Games. He was planning a tournament that would blow people's minds, and he was planning to win.

Ryou woke up early and naked. Both were so unnerving that he immediately decided upon looking at the alarm clock – it was 6am – to go straight back to sleep.

However, as he lay back down and closed his eyes, he realised that he was completely awake and refreshed. For perhaps this reason, he found it very hard to fight the happiness bubbling up form inside. He smiled quizzically and pulled on his green silk pyjama pants, some furry slippers and a white furry bathrobe that he found where he had last left them in a neat pile on the table by his bed.

It was always cool inside the flat because he liked fresh air and never bothered to turn up the central heating when the windows were closed. Yawning more from habit than anything else, he made his way to the living room in the darkness before sunrise.

He was slightly startled when he saw a familiar blonde turn to face him as he entered. The boy was dressed in their school uniform, drinking what smelt like hot chocolate on his couch. The only alteration he had made to the uniform was that he had hung his jacket on some hooks by the door among Ryou's dad's winter coats, and was now wearing a very familiar white jumper.

Eyes wide from surprise and worry, in the dim light, Ryou could see Malik's cheeks were a shade darker than the rest of his face. Of course, it could have been the fact that he was being warmed up by his drink.

I wonder what the etiquette is in this situation. Wait! How did he get in? Did we…

As if reading his thoughts and certainly to forestall any more along those lines, Malik greeted him quickly and nervously with a crooked smile.

"Hi, Ryou. Don't… think anything. I'm here to see Bakura." Then he added, with a worried smile. "You know about him, right?"

Ryou saw the eyes imploring him not to… Well he wasn't sure exactly what was worrying the other boy. Ryou was sure he couldn't lift a hand to stop Malik from doing just as he pleased.

Even if we had not started this awkward friendship. What does he think I'll do? I don't deserve that look.

He nodded his head, smiling politely, then genuinely as it elicited a groan of annoyance from Malik…

…Bakura yawned and stretched theatrically, one eye closed, and shuffled over to the cupboard to make some coffee. When there, kitchen lights on, one hand putting beans into the coffee grinder he had recently acquired, he realized he had not brushed his teeth or had a shower, that in fact, he should be in the bathroom.

Grumbling, he turned on the teapot and shuffled across the living room, in the direction of the bathroom. He smirked when Malik's greeting evidenced the fact that he had just regained his power of speech.

"Horis. That must be the strangest thing I have ever seen." Came with him into the bathroom in awed tones, soon to be followed by its owner.

His non committal 'Hn' reply was said to Malik's grinning reflection, as he glanced up for a second, his lips being covered in toothpaste foam, with the toothbrush handle hanging out of his mouth.

Bakura returned to his dailies, continuing to grumble. He had seen the sparkle in his shadowed eyes reflecting in the mirror which belied his behaviour. In fact he was savouring this morning, doing all those things it amused him to do and enjoying that his audience was not Marik, so he didn't have to read meaning into the actions of his observer or figure out what his own actions were conveying.

"What was that?" Asked Malik, amusement so thick in his voice, it was a wonder he wasn't chuckling. A glance in the mirror showed Bakura a grinning Malik, who had just looked up from cleaning his nails as he leaned against one side of the doorframe.

Bakura wiped his face on a hand towel, turned around and hung it in its place as he thought of an adequate reply.

"Which one? 'You wouldn't catch me dead in that jumper' or 'hot chocolate, the lows our society has sunk to these days, yech'?" he asked raising an eyebrow and smirking.

Malik laughed "As opposed to coffee?" as he pushed away from the doorframe and the two of them walked into the living room.

Malik's voice turned serious, and Bakura missed the second thing he said, as the grinder made quite a racket while it filled the room with the beautiful scent of freshly ground coffee.

When he had put the powder into the coffee maker, turned it on, and washed the various parts of the grinder, setting it to dry – which required considerable concentration due to the copious very sharp blades – Bakura turned to Malik, who had come to rinse his cup in the sink.

"Come again?" He asked cocking his head to the side when Malik avoided his eyes.

"The jumper. It smells like Ryou." Came the reply as Malik shrugged.

"Ah." Bakura understood perfectly, and felt uncomfortable in this new emotional territory – that of confidant. He wanted Malik to laugh, not wear the smile he did now which failed miserably to hide his emotions, and so conveyed them most eloquently.

"So does the chocolate." He grumbled. Malik smirked.

"So do I as a matter of fact." Malik looked up, a strange smile on his face, his eyes a bit glazed over.

Bakura looked over and saw the coffee was done. He pulled a cup out of the cupboard and poured some for himself.

At the same time he felt Malik came over and bury his face in the crook of Bakura's shoulder, his arms snaking around Bakura's bare waist, under the open bathrobe.

Bakura looked at the coffee cup in his hand, then at Malik, whose hair was partially obstructing his mouth. He tried reaching around to move it out of the way with his other arm, but Malik made it impossible to reach.

There was nothing for it.

"Git off!" He said through clenched teeth, and Malik pulled back to look at him, cocking his head to one side questioningly. "Coffee." Bakura looked longingly at the cup.

Malik released him and stepped back, smiling, one hand behind his head. "Ha! Yeah."

"I'll be on the couch." He added with a smile, walking off and lying down on said couch, so he had a view of the starry sky outside.

The stars were beginning to be covered by distant clouds moving in for the morning fog. The sky was that peculiar shade it got when you knew it was already morning, so your eyes kept trying to convince your brain that it was getting lighter when in fact it was still the same as at midnight.

Malik's easy reply was the latest in a line of reminders that he wasn't Marik. And it's surprisingly great. Ha! I didn't realize how intense Marik is until I had something to compare it to. And I'm the observant one!

Bakura could now make his way over to the couch freely, sit down as Malik lifted his head and drink his coffee as that head was lowered onto his lap. He proceeded to do this, thinking that with Marik, things like this needed at the very least the pretence of an excuse if not a solid reason.

He had forgotten to turn off the light in the kitchen, he realized as soon as he got comfortable. This meant that their view of the sky was not as good as it could have been.

"Whatcha thinkin'?"

Bakura felt Malik's head move, sending tingles all over his body and glanced down into the light blue eyes.

Nobody should be allowed to have eyes that blue.

"Light." He replied.

Malik nodded, smiling innocently. "Me too." Then his smile turned into the smile of a child with a mischievous idea. "I'll get it" He proceeded to hop up, Bakura barely saving the remnants of his coffee from ending up all over both of them.

He was gone longer than necessitated going to the kitchen, but Bakura didn't mind, and at least he didn't forget to turn off the light before he returned, hairbrush in hand.

"You forgot something this morning, I think." Said Malik, grinning as he plonked onto the couch, holding up the hairbrush.

"Well go on then." said Bakura, grumbling, "I ain't doing it. It's a bother doing it every time I have a shower, it always looks messy anyway, so spending my spare time on it…"

"Turn around." Malik interrupted laughing.

Bakura took off his slippers, turned to sit cross-legged on the couch and made sure none of his hair was caught by the bathrobe. Malik's touch was surprisingly gentle.

"Practice on your sister?" He guessed.

"So you CAN see Ryou's memories." Malik paused.

"Mmm." Bakura replied as the brushing resumed – Ryou was the only one of the two of them that had seen Ishizu in person. He half closed his eyed to feel the brush, the coffee warming him inside a soft bathrobe to contrast with the cool air on his face.

Malik loved the feel of this hair.

"I don't know if you remembered it's a school day today." He said, quietly so as not to wreck the mood.

"Hm? Oh, you can go by your house and get your books before school, can't you?" Came the offhand reply. Malik waited because if Bakura was anything like Ryou, he didn't miss details, no matter what was happening at the time.

"Or you can get Rashid to go by the bar, but you know all you have to do is call him, so presumably you did that this morning and your books will be meeting you at the school gate. So what was your point? Ah. There's plenty of time for me to get changed."

Given that he was obviously on the verge of falling asleep, Bakura's mental processing was impressive. Malik smiled and continued brushing, the rhythmic motions soothing him to the point where it was almost like meditation. After a bit though, thoughts bubbled up from nowhere.

Everything looks blue in this light… This place is awfully impersonal for a family home – I haven't seen any photos or anything…It's not like at Yugi's – they've even got photos of his friends about the place…I wonder how he's coping with his grandfather in the hospital…That tape about the tournament…He must have either gone mad, become really gullible or the world isn't quite as mundane and boring as we're led to believe… Hmm, Duellist Kingdom, I wonder if Bakura's going. Does he even duel? Ha! I could ask.

"Hey, Bakura, are you going to Duellist Kingdom?"

"Not the tournament, but the place, possibly."

"Aren't you competing?"

"Why would I?" Came the surprised reply. "I don't need three million dollars and there's nothing Pegasus can do for me I can't do for myself." There was a pause for thought. "Ryou has been invited by Otogi, so if we go, we'll be at the castle."

"Castle?" Malik was surprised.

Bakura chuckled. "Yes, Pegasus lives in a castle."

"I haven't heard of any castles around here."

"My guess is he built it himself – he would make quite a bit being head of Industrial Illusions. Funny how the company has grown astronomically since it was founded on the making of Duel Monsters."

"It would have made a lot of money once it took off." Malik reasoned.

"Yes, but the numbers don't add up – its profits would have levelled off if it didn't branch out into other stuff."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Yet."

"Is that why you're going there?"

Bakura shrugged. "Maybe. It teases curiosity, doesn't it?"

Just then, the phone rang.

Malik checked a clock on the wall. "It's seven am, on a school day."

Bakura shrugged again, and reached over to pick up the handset by the antenna with his foot. He put it down on the table near his coffee cup, and turned on the speakerphone.

"Hello? How may I help you?" It was such a good imitation of Ryou, Malik stopped brushing for a moment.

"You could direct me to a thief." Came a cheerful voice. It's the kind of voice, Malik thought, that would wake you up at the crack of dawn to tell you 'good morning sleepy head' followed by an 'oh, I'm sorry, were you sleeping?'.

"Speaking. May I enquire who is calling?" Bakura sounded relaxed, so Malik continued brushing.

"You may indeed. This is Maxemillion Pegasus. And you must be the boy who has been enquiring into my affairs."

"I'm afraid that you have been misinformed there. I was enquiring into my affairs. It interested me to find out why I'm getting hush money on top of my usual fee. Mr. Nezbitt doesn't sound like the fan boy type."

"Oh you are that thief. My, my, how proactive of you! Of course, my apologies for the misunderstanding. And how did you make out?"

"I got the conspiracy and kidnapping bit, however the lie of your allegiance is a little foggy around the edges."

"How resourceful! My allegiance is always foggy. Mind you, I have a slight leaning towards the boy that made me king. So what, may I ask are your plans?"

"I'll do the job – I like my work. What I don't like is not being told the full story."

"But you enjoy the sleuthing for information."

"Of course. But only to double check."

"A boy after my own heart! I tell you what, you come down here when the tournament is on. You know about it?... If not, find out. Then we can talk properly, and discuss job prospects. I'm in the castle, you can't miss it. Well, toodleoo!" And that was it.

Malik stopped brushing – he was finished anyway, and Bakura leaned forward to replace the handset.

"Well. It would seem I am going after all." Said Bakura, turning to put on his slippers. Malik could hear Ryou's politeness fade as he talked.

Having put on the slippers, Bakura stood and started walking away.

Malik quickly moved to the edge of the couch, eyes wide. "What? Now?"

Bakura turned around, smirking. His features were illuminated by the light of dawn, his eyes a warmer red in this light. "Now? Clothes. Call Otogi. School."

Nobody saw them arrive together on Malik's motorbike, and Rashid delivered Malik's bag completely intact. There was a whole month from now until Halloween, and Malik for one intended to spend it working, studying to get ahead and trying to get his Millennium Rod back. It left only enough time to literally sleep with Bakura, but then the other boy had a job to pull off.