A/N: Wow, two updates in three days. I'm fast. This chapter was fun to write, hope you like it too. i would talk more, but I'm in hurry. let's just say that Marik and Malik are back!

Warnings: Super long flashback (kinda) and violence, definitely violence.

Disclaimer: nope

Chapter 4. Insane Laughter (I wanna go to Japan)

"Well, well, look who's here. My perfect little hikari and his perfect little friends," Bakura spat, when he saw Ryou, Yugi and Yami climbing down the stairs to the basement.

Ryou didn't answer to the accuse, just lowered the plates in front of his yami. Yugi and Yami hovered right behind him.

Yugi had a little smile on his face and he seemed totally calm. That was one of the great things about Yugi, his smile and calmness, which were both very hard to break.

Yami was almost solely focusing to keep himself solid. He wasn't going to show this weakness to Bakura, not yet anyway, no matter how foolish that sounded, even in his own ears. Yami was unenthusiastic to begin a conversation, which would start with the words: 'Hey, Bakura! Can I ask you a favor?' Well, he knew the answer to that one: no, definitely NO! But he needed to try. All he needed was an opening. So Yami stood beside Yugi and waited.

Bakura snatched the plate from the floor and started eating from it with that feral way of his.

"Where's your Ring, Ryou?" Bakura asked after a while pointing towards Ryou's empty chest.

"I left it upstairs," Ryou answered.

"You're not getting it in your filthy hands, tomb robber," Yami said, receiving three glares, for that comment. Two of them were warning and the last one was plain angry. But after giving that one glare Bakura ignored Yami completely, and continued eating.

Yugi turned to smile at Bakura again, and Ryou raised his eyebrow to Yami, silently asking him: 'What the hell do you think you're doing?' Yami shrugged back at Ryou, indicating that he couldn't help it. Ryou rolled his eyes in a matter that said: 'Whatever'. Then he turned to look at Bakura as well.

The other yami had already finished his meal. He put the plate down. It let out a loud sound as it hit the floor, but it didn't break. Bakura looked at them, waiting for something to happen.

"We should change your bandages," Ryou suggested after a long pause.

Bakura tilted his head.

"I think I'm fine," he said, meaning that if Ryou tried to tough him, he would break his arm.

"Okay," Ryou nodded, catching the hint and not pushing the matter any further.

Bakura stared blankly past Ryou, a bored look on his face.

Yugi nudged Yami, saying that he should 'go for it', because 'now's your change.' Yami shook his head. 'No way.' 'What?' Yugi asked silently, with a look of surprise on his face. Yami shook his head again. Yugi gave him a 'I can't believe you'-look. Yami just shrugged.

Bakura was still deep in thought. Nobody moved, until he spoke again.

"You have some business with me. I wasn't brought back for nothing, correct?"

Ryou nodded. Bakura continued:

"And since Ryou said that he didn't need me for anything. Then it would be logical if Yami would be my next guess. Am I right?"

Bakura stared at Yami. Yami sifted his position uncomfortably, before nodding slowly.

"And what makes you think that I will help you?" Bakura asked, his voice full of scorn.

Yami shrugged.

"I brought you back?" He offered

"You put me there in the first place. I own nothing to my captor."

"Well you're not there anymore."

"Yes, instead I'm locked in here. What a wonderful thing freedom truly is" Bakura said, sarcastic. "At least, when I was back in that island, I got to enjoy the great outdoors. Now I don't have even that. Just walls, that keep me here, and not where I want to be."

"I think you're right. I can't force you to help me," Yami faked a sigh.

Bakura snorted

"If I were wise, I would save your sorry ass, and then get the hell out of here. But guess what pharaoh? I don't wanna, so I'm not doing it."

Bakura crossed his arms across his chest and didn't speak. Yami didn't speak either, he didn't know what to say. After a long and silent pause, Bakura opened his mouth and stated:

"You're selfish, pharaoh."

"What?" Yami asked.

"It's true. Only thing you think about is your own ass. Only difference between you and Yugi is that you're a selfish bastard, and he isn't."

Yugi smiled brightly, happy for the compliment, not realizing what it meant to Yami.

"Well then, I'm just few steps behind you tomb robber, aren't I?" Yami mocked, though he knew that the statement was a huge mistake as soon as it escaped his mouth.

Bakura's eyes darkened, and he clenched his fists. He was obviously trying to hold himself back, but soon came to a conclusion that this was totally worth any consequence that possibly could follow.

With a wild screech he jumped on Yami, hands wrapping around his throat, trying to strangle him. Yami tried to back away, but didn't manage to. He could feel the hands pressing his throat with a great, murderous force. Then...

Yami lost his focus.

Bakura slipped through him to the floor, letting out a confused sound. He jumped to his feet immediately, and turned to glare at Yami. His glare turned into a surprised look as he noticed the condition Yami was in, floating in front of him, as a spirit not in a body.

Yami could see how hundred different thoughts ran through Bakura's mind with a speed of light.

Bakura leaned against the wall and stared. Yami waited, full of fear, how the other yami would react.

His question was answered, when Bakura grinned, a wide unbelieving grin. A low chuckle escaped from his throat. Soon it turned into full laughter. Bakura leaned his forehead against the wall and laughed. He clutched his sides with his hands in pain, because the malicious laughter just wouldn't stop. He didn't care about the confused looks Yugi, Yami and Ryou gave him. He just laughed, 'cos that was the only thing he could do right now, and he wanted it.

After, what felt like forever to Yami, Bakura stopped laughing, because he couldn't breath anymore. He wiped away the tears of laughter from the corner of his eyes.

When Bakura had regained his composure, he turned to face Yami and the others with a perfectly calm, but forced, look on his face.

"Yes?" he asked politely, like nothing had happened.

"What's with the laughing?" Yami asked, scowling.

Bakura tried to answer, but he couldn't control himself anymore, so started laughing again. That little insane laugh of his.

Malik's sandals raised some dust from the ground. The dust whirled around his feet for a while, before it descended.

Malik's quick and careful steps let him through the narrow streets of this busy Egyptian bazaar. Malik ignored the commotion of locals and tourists. He ignored the shouts of the merchants, southed both in English and in Arabic, as they all tried to catch some naive tourists, possible customers, into their shops, to see just how cheap their prizes were. Few foolish tourists followed one man into his shop. Probably that man would get money enough to support him for a month, and those tourists would leave with their wallets empty and hands full of junk.

Malik kept his head low and rushed through another bunch of tourists and their guide, who was explaining something about bazaars and traditions and how much he loved those things. Malik mumbled an apology as he went. He made sure that the book, he was carrying, didn't slip from under his arm.

The book was heavy. An eye was drawn on the cover with golden paint. The eye stared blankly at everyone. It was quite unnerving actually. It was an eye you could see on ancient Egyptian wall paintings, and the book itself looked ancient too. Its cover was made of dark leather and its pages were yellowed with age. Malik turned around few corners, clearly knowing where he was going. He walked these streets almost everyday. Turn to the right and he was in front of block of white clean brick houses. These houses were owned by 'better people', as they were called. They where the people, who had money. Houses were separated from the other parts of the city with a wall. Wall had few gates in it, that were always guarded by some men.

Malik nodded to a man, who stood guarding the gate he entered, and mumbled few words in Arabic. Man greeted him back. Malik hurried to his house, unlocked the door and stepped in.

He put the book on the table near to the door and looked around, trying to find his yami.

Every time he went outside, and didn't want to take Marik with him, Malik would lock him up to the house, and make sure no one would come in. That's been his habit after Marik, unsupervised, almost accidentally burned a tourist alive. Even though Marik was locked up, that didn't mean he couldn't find himself something 'fun' to do. That usually involved knives, sharp knives and lots and lots of blood, not Marik's though. Like that one time when a burglar tried to break into their house, when Malik was away. Marik had been there, to the burglar's disappointment, though he really didn't had had much time to think about it before... Well let's just say that the blood was still on the mat.

"Marik!" Malik yelled, but no one answered his calls.

Malik began searching Marik around the house. He checked the bed room, which was empty, and so was their kitchen. He stopped near the living room door. Someone was laughing inside.

This couldn't be good.

Last time Malik came home and heard Marik laughing, Malik had found a skinned and very dead cat, which had lain on the floor. Marik had sat next to that thing, bloody knife and poor cat's heart in his hands. He had been giggling, and couldn't stop, until Malik punched him.

And it had been Malik, who had brought the cat, or it's remains, safely in a plastic bag to its owner.

That little girl, only seven, didn't dare to look at Malik even now.

Malik had a reason to be alarmed.

He leaned against the wall and prepared himself for blood, knives and everything that was gross, like organs, and skinned cats.

Malik peeked through the doorway. No blood, check. No knives, check. So far, so good.

Malik thought he was brave enough to sneak inside. What he saw was both amusing, and unusual.

Marik lay on the floor, laughing almost hysterical. He rolled around the room, slamming his fist now and then against the floor. His other hand held the phone against his chest, in sort of thankful and protecting manner.

His laughter was loud, malicious and not believing. That's all the aspects Malik could hear, though there were many more.

Tears of laughter were rolling down Marik's cheek. It looked like he wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

Malik raised his eyebrows at his yami. Marik didn't laugh, unless there were blood involved. Especially the phone made young hikari curious.

Malik walked next to his yami and waited, until Marik noticed him. Marik rolled over, so his head rested on Malik's bare feet, He gave hikari a sweet smile. The phone lay on his chest and his arm was still around it.

Malik answered Marik's smile with his own amused one. Then he helped him up.

Marik was tangled with the phone wire and his hair was messy and puffed up, because of all the rolling. That goofy smile was still glued on his face.

Malik poked the phone with his index finger.

"What's with this?" he asked.

Marik tried to answer, but instead he started laughing again, collapsing against Malik's shoulder.

Between bursts of laughter Malik caught the words:

"I can't. Believe this. We've got to go to Japan. I. Can't. Breathe. We've got to go to Japan!"

A/N: There. When two out of three yamis laugh at you, you know you're screwed. Yami is stupid, feel free to punch him, if you want ^^