Malik set his elbow on the table, chin in his hand. He watched the tomb robber and pharaoh argiung; going for each other's throats, yet again. Marik was cheering Bakura on with a sick fascination, and Ryou looked horrified. "Yami, wait, please? He'll banish- Yami, put that knife down!" he yelled, covering his chocolate eyes with the sleeve of his pale blue hoodie. Malik turned his head away to stare out of the window, sighing.

It was Spring already, it seemed everyone had developed a bit of cabin fever while Winter had kept them in his grip; keeping them all locked inside houses together. They couldn't wait for something fun to come up- though they'd shot down Kaiba's new tournament idea.

Really, everytime that happened, they had to save the world.

He heard a sickening sound, and Marik gasp, and slowly turned back to look at Bakura and Atem. He saw no blood on either of the two, but Bakura looked as though he was going to kill himself. When he glanced at Ryou, he immediately saw why.

While attempting to keep Bakura from hurting Atem, Ryou had held his arm out to placate the older whitenett. Unfortunately for him, he'd done it right when Bakura had gone to strike the two toned prince. His left arm was sliced from his wrist to half way up his forearm. The albino looked away from the injury, while Bakura and the Pharaoh pushed him into a seat. Malik stood up, pushing the sleeves of his lilac hoodie up.

"Why would you do-"

"Something so fucking stupid! I mean, I-"

"Could've stabbed you in the heart!" the two were taking turns scolding Ryou as the Egyptian Hikari slowly cleaned the wound.

"At least it's a clean cut, with a clean knife." Malik told the albino, ignoring the two yamis. Ryou nodded, offering a shakey smile. "Though, there is kinda a lot of blood…" They both blinked when a glass of grape jucie appeared to be floating between their faces. They looked up to see Marik had filled a glass up with it, silently. How he'd managed it with Ryou's squeaky fridge? Noone knew.

"I hear you're supposed to have sugar or something after blood loss. I swear it's not poisoned. I actually like you, White Kitty." Marik sing songed. Malik smiled softly at his yami, before reaching into a drawer and pulling out gauze.

"Uh, th-thank you, Marik-san."

"Just Marik, hikari-shiro." He patted the boy's fluffy hair,b efore turning to shake his head at the other two yamis. Both were elaning on counters opposite each other, and Atem looked guilty. Bakura… looked like Bakura. He was watching the Ishtar's, and his hikari, with a spark of jealousy in his eyes.

How come he was never aloud to take care of his Ryou?

That's right; his Ryou.

He sighed, blowing a wayward strand of hair away from his face. He watched as Malik carefully wrapped part of Ryou's wrist, then the rest of his forearm. Marik was glaring at him, and Bakura forced himself to look away. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his over sized hoodie.

He scowled; why the hell ahd they even gotten the same hoodies? Oh right, the hikaris had begged… Ryou had gotten blue, Malik had gotten lilac. Bakura's was black, and Marik's a darker purple. All were over sized- much to Ryou's disappointment.

Least they were comfortable.

He glanced back to find Marik had stopped glaring, and Ryou was all taped up. He was drinking the grape juice, like a good little boy. Bakura stifled a chuckle at that. He pulled his hand out of his pocket to plug his black ear bud into his ear, and slide the iPod in the jacket to life.

And if I bleed, I'll bleed

Knowing you don't care

And if I sleep, just to dream of you

And wake without you there

Isn't something missing?

"Kura?" he looked down to find Ryou looking up at him. He forced himself to look annoyed, yet the slightest bit apologetic. "Can you reach the muffin box?" he pointed behind the whitenette, where a box of double filled chocolate muffins sat innocently.

"Nieh." He reached behind his head, and pulled the box down. He reached in, cursing mentally when he felt it was the last one. He handed it to Ryou, tossing the box carelessly in the trash. Ryou frowned, offering it up.

"I know you wanted the last-"

"Forget it, Hikari. Just take the damn muffin." The younger albino looked hesitant, until his darker half growled.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah." Ryou smiled to himself, going back to Malik. Atem and Marik watched the tomb robber, smirking. He scowled, wishing his fear tactics worked on the other yamis. It worked on Mirana, on occasion. (Hikari: In case you don't see the connection, these are the Ocs :) Mirana is Yami's.)

"That was-"

"Pharaoh, I will skin Yugi and leave him in your bed." The two toned prince growled, amusing the albino. Marik leaned forward, pupiless eyes searching crimson.

"At least he can get his Hikari into bed."

"Look who's talking," Bakura shot back, trying to tame his temper. Marik smirked.

"Hikari climbs into my bed, when he can't sleep, or when it's cold. He's a cuddler."

"That's nice. Have you got into his pants?" Atem rolled his eyes at the childishness of it all.

"Will you two grow up? You, Touzoku, are over five millenia. Marik… Just, just grow up…" he waved his hand.

"Hey, I'm seventeen! I'm aloud to act like a kid."

"Technically," they looked at Malik, who was smiling slightly. "You're even younger than that." (Yami: I'm not sure exactly how old Malik was when he received the ritual, so I'm just gonna go with he was eight when it happened.) "You're about nine."

"See? I'm technically a kid!" Marik stuck his tongue out, snickering.

"Immature."

"Like you're any better?"

"Shut up, Pharaoh!"

"Not this again," Ryou sighed dramatically, letting his head fall into his hand. He watched the four, smiling to himself.

Just another intriguing day in his house.