A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews. You can't imagine how much I enjoy reading them. For the most part. At least until it was pointed out to me that since I'm trying to devote time to all three of the couples in this story, it was time that I introduce Bakura's POV. My reaction to this was along the lines of "ah crap" and an instant urge to run in the opposite direction. I'm not used to Bakura or Mariku at all, so forgive me if I've completely screwed up his POV in this chapter. I did my best? *sigh* Um... Enjoy?

The kid was weak.

That was the conclusion that Takahashi Bakura had come to within minutes of meeting Bakura Ryou for the first time. He was small, almost petite, with a figure that some (many) might (would) have called feminine. Always polite, with a penchant for keeping things clean and neat, and a perpetual need to be on time. Generally wore a smile on his face, didn't handle pain very well at all, and apparently cared nothing for power. Exactly the kind of person that Bakura had taught from his early childhood to hate. The two of them might have looked physically similar, with the same white hair and brown eyes, but like true ying and yang, they were in reality, complete opposites.

And yet. Somehow, Ryou had stood up to him, which was something that few people had the courage to do. Even Jou, who had known him for a few years now, still had the tendency to quail under Bakura's darkest glares. Of course, that might just be because the blond was fully aware of just what Bakura could and would do, but still. That boy had faced him without the slightest bit of hesitation and snapped back at him even when Bakura grew threatening. Ryou had been fully prepared to give up the kind of power that the Millennium Ring could grant, and for what? It had been obvious from day one that the kid's father cared nothing for him, but that hadn't stopped Ryou from being ready to hand over the Ring anyway.

Bakura didn't understand Ryou, and that was beginning to drive him crazy. Scowling, he opened one eye slightly and glanced down at the boy that was still loosely encircled in his arms. Ryou had been sleeping pretty much non-stop since the day before. He'd awoken earlier that morning at Bakura's insistence for just enough time to get dressed before he had passed out again. Admittedly, it took a hell of a lot of energy to summon a duel monster in the real world, and he had stolen quite a bit of said energy from his hikari, but did the kid have to be so damn weak about it? Hadn't he ever learned that weakness could be used against him?

It was a lesson Bakura had learned young. His parents had died when he was a child. In front of him. Apparently, his weakling of a father had pissed off the wrong people, and both of his parents had paid the price. The only reason that Bakura had survived was because he'd had the intelligence to actually stay hidden, unlike his mother, who had run to her husband's aid during the attack and ended up forfeiting her own life in the process. Since then, he'd been passed around to quite a few relatives before ending up with the "black sheep" of the family. An uncle who had gone to great lengths to show Bakura exactly why it was much easier – and a hell of a lot more fun – to be on the wrong side of the law than the right one. No weaknesses, no caring, and no time for stupid things like bonds or family or... his face curled up into a sneer... love. Not even the Pharaoh's reappearance in his life had been able to take those lessons from him.

As though sensing that Bakura was thinking about him, Yami glanced over at him, crimson eyes narrowed slightly. He was sitting on the ground with Yuugi beside him, within arm's reach at Yami's insistence. The quiet understanding that existed between the two of them was enough to make Bakura scowl in return. It figured that the Pharaoh would be so cozy with his light already, but then, there was nothing holding him back. Unlike Yami, Bakura remembered everything about his previous life. That knowledge had allowed him to hide as a child and not attract attention to himself, and it had ensured that he actually survived his uncle's "teaching". Unfortunately, it also meant that he recalled in detail the explanation given to him of the ceremonial sacrifice. The power he had craved so much... and the things he would have to do to get it. Things like the boy that was curling into him.

Love. Caring. Emotional attachments had never been Bakura's thing, not even when he was a little kid. They were weaknesses, and there was nothing he abhorred more than a weakness. Power was all that mattered in the world, and Ryou and the Millennium Ring were his way to getting it. He should have been able to use Ryou to further strengthen the bond to the point where he could use the Ring, and then toss the boy away like he meant nothing at all. That had been his plan from the start, regardless of how many times Yami had scolded him for it. It was still his plan even now. The problem was...

Ryou sighed, a soft whimper, and pressed his nose into Bakura's neck.

Bakura's arms tightened. Ever so slightly. Unconsciously.

Softly, under his breath... "Fuck."

GMA

Yuugi was not having the best day at school. True, his question of how he was supposed to act around Tenno had been answered almost immediately when the older boy appeared before him in the schoolyard and extended a hand to him. He'd been very aware of the other students openly staring when he summoned up the courage to put his hand into Tenno's. But... that hadn't really meant anything, right? After all, it wasn't like he liked Tenno. Or did he? Those kinds of thoughts had been flying around his head all morning, making it difficult to concentrate on his work. Everything the teacher had said had done straight over his head. One week at his new school and already his grade point average was going downhill.

Then he'd discovered that he'd forgotten his lunch and that he had no money to buy one. Fine, he could deal with skipping another meal. No big deal. He was looking forward to having some time to talk to Ryou and Malik without the others around, but that thought had been wiped from his mind when he got to the roof and saw Ryou sleeping in Bakura's arms (apparently he would recover faster with constant contact with Bakura) and Malik sitting beside Mariku (he wasn't sure about that one). At least the blond had the decency to give him a sheepish look as Tenno beckoned to him. Only because he had the sneaking suspicion that Tenno would have followed him if he'd turned and run made Yuugi cross the roof to them and sit down. Conveniently, the only open space was next to Tenno himself.

And now he was being glared at. Quite harshly. By a lot of people. Yuugi clenched his fingers nervously as he made a valiant attempt to withstand the burning itch of all of the stares. A lot of people ate lunch on the roof, and about sixty percent of them were girls. Girls who were apparently crushing hard on Tenno Yami. Girls who didn't understand why Yuugi was the one who was lucky enough to sit right next to Tenno, close enough that their shoulders and thighs were touching. He would have dearly loved to explain to them that they were more than welcome to take his seat, but the combined force of their glowering had made the words die in his throat. It was easier to sit silently and hope that it really was impossible to be set on fire just from the sheer strength of the heated glares.

One girl finally stopped glaring and instead managed to summon up the nerve to approach. She had been watching the small group with some confusion for several minutes. Normally, the five most popular boys in school were an island unto themselves, with the other students circulating but not daring to get too close. Mazaki Anzu was one of the few who had successfully begun to infiltrate them, and she saw no reason why things should change. It was with that thought in mind that she left her friends and crossed the roof, taking full advantage of the grace that only a dancer could possess. Her small hands were holding onto a neatly wrapped box, which she presented to Tenno as all seven of the conscious boys looked up at her at once.

"Yami-san, I made this for you," she said shyly.

Tenno blinked up at her, seemingly caught off-guard. Yuugi glanced at him, wondering what he would do. He watched as Tenno slowly took the box and held it with the tips of his fingers. "Thank you," he said stiffly. Bakura snorted, his previous ill mood washed away by a growing smirk.

"I... I hope you enjoy it," Anzu said hastily. Before Tenno could respond, she spun on her heel and hurried away with hips swaying, but not before Yuugi caught sight of the blush growing on her cheeks. Admittedly, he was a little surprised by her actions. He remembered Anzu from elementary school; she had been a popular girl, but that had never stopped her from being kind to the rest of her classmates. Once or twice, they had even played together, but then Anzu had become involved in a dance club, and Yuugi had found Jou, Ryou, and Malik, and that was the end of that. The Anzu he recalled had been a confident, spunky spitfire who didn't know the meaning of the word 'shy'. Either something had happened, or she really had it bad for Tenno Yami. Judging by the look on Tenno's face, it was the latter.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Tenno asked, looking resigned. "Jou...?"

"Sorry, Yami." Mouth twitching with suppressed amusement, Jou rolled onto his side. His head was propped up against Seto's thigh. It seemed to be one of his favourite positions. "Not even I would dare to eat what Mazaki cooked for you. She almost caught me last time, and I thought she was going to push me over the side of the roof. And since my boyfriend didn't do anything but stand there and laugh..." He accompanied the comment with a pointed poke to Seto's thigh. The brunette just smirked.

"What did she make you?" Malik asked, curious.

Placing the box on his lap, Tenno pried the top off with the tips of his fingers to reveal the contents within. The bento had been sectioned into compartments, and each one held a treat that had been created with him in mind. Tenno sighed with frustration, an almost pained look crossing his face, and Yuugi knew in a flash that the older boy didn't know how to deal with Anzu's unwanted affection. It was... kind of endearing. In a move that surprised even himself, he reached out and picked up one of the rice balls. He fully enjoyed the shocked look on Tenno's face as he brought it back to his mouth and took a tiny bite.

"What?" he asked when he was done chewing, a perfect picture of innocence. "She can't do anything if everyone shares. If you eat even a little bit of it, that will make her happy, and you'll come off looking like a good person for having shared with your friends." His voice grew softer, and he dropped his gaze, fighting back the urge to blush.

Friends. The word hung between them, feeling almost tangible. Tenno's eyes were wide for a moment before the harsh crimson gaze suddenly softened. Without a word, Tenno picked up a thin skewer that had both fruit and cheese on it and passed the bento to Mariku and Malik for them to pick out whatever they liked. Even Jou found the courage to take a rice ball and a sausage cut into the shape of a flower. Looking faintly nauseous, Bakura refused all food, but Seto accepted one of the skewers. By the time lunch was over, the bento had been passed around another three times, and it was mostly empty. Best of all, there was a thrilled look on Anzu's face, visible even across the roof.

"Thank you, Aibou," Tenno whispered to him, ducking his head so that he could speak directly into Yuugi's ear.

That time, Yuugi did blush. He couldn't help it. "I didn't really do anything," he mumbled, uncomfortable with the remark. It had been partly selfish on his part, because he'd been so hungry after not having had a lunch of his own, and he didn't like the thought of Tenno reading too much into it. "I mean... you did chase Rebecca-san away. The least I could do was help you with Anzu-san."

Something between them had shifted, and now Tenno's smile was almost knowing. "You have my thanks anyway, Little One," he said, rising to his feet. "Bakura, are you going to stay here with Ryou?"

Bakura nodded shortly without speaking. He hadn't said much during the meal, which was unusual for him. Normally he never missed an opportunity to mock Tenno in some way, especially when it came to Anzu, or a chance to start something with Mariku. But his face was so pale and his grip so tight on Ryou that not even Mariku had the nerve to make a comment. The small white bandage on his temple, combined with the livid bruising on the side of his face, made Yuugi wince in sympathy every time he caught sight of the injuries. It had to hurt, but Bakura hadn't protested, and for once Tenno had no intention of making his friend go to class.

"We'll wait for you after school," he told him, placing a hand on Yuugi's shoulder. He steered his reluctant hikari away as the second warning bell rang, indicating that they had less than five minutes to get to class. Still, Yuugi resisted, glancing anxiously over his shoulder at their friends.

"Will they be alright?" he asked, eyes wide with concern. "What if something happens to them?"

"I doubt anyone would dare attack in such a public place," said Tenno with a comforting squeeze as he pushed the door open. "If something did happen, Mariku and I would be able to sense it, and we would come and help. They'll be alright, Aibou, I promise. Ryou will probably sleep for the rest of the afternoon, and I suspect that once we're gone, Bakura will, too."

Yuugi glanced up at him and hesitated, wondering it was really okay. Uncertain of whether or not it was safe to put his trust in Tenno Yami. There were few things he valued more than the lives of his best friends. But Tenno's crimson eyes were warm and reassuring, and he found himself nodding slowly, realizing that the older truly believed that Ryou and Bakura would be fine. He stepped into the stairwell and allowed Tenno to close the door, cutting off his last view of the peaceful couple out on the roof. As he turned to go down the stairs for even more classes that he would pay absolutely no attention to, he prayed that the two of them would pass a peaceful afternoon, because he wasn't sure how much more any of them could take.

GMA

Ryou wasn't even that tired, in all honesty. No, really. It was more like every ounce of energy had been sucked out of his body all at once, leaving him with the ability to do only one thing: look like he was asleep even though his mind was aware and racing. Sure, he sometimes drifted off into an actual slumber, but for part of the day he had been conscious enough to listen to the conversation around him, and alert to the point where he could recognize the arms that were often around him as belonging to Bakura. The heavy exhaustion weighing him down didn't seem quite as bad when Bakura was holding onto him. Sometimes he was even able to summon up enough strength to shift into a more comfortable position, though that always made him drift off afterwards. Towards the middle of the afternoon, he was actually able to open his eyes and look around.

The first thing he became aware of was the pleasant breeze that was teasing the ends of his hair and stroking his cheeks. Ryou blinked and sighed quietly, enjoying the sensation after hours of being trapped inside of his depleted body. Almost instantly, the arms around his waist tensed, and then, like a bolt of lightning, Bakura was standing next to him, face set in an icy glare. Dazed by the sudden change, Ryou could only lean against the wall on the spot that Bakura had just vacated and stare up at his yami silently. That spot was still warm and he couldn't help shivering a little.

"Bakura," he said finally, his voice hoarse. His eyes stung from the brilliance of the sun, and he could just barely make out the bruising on Bakura's face. Inwardly, he cringed, remembering that dreadful moment when he'd walked into his living room and seen Bakura unconscious on the floor. "Are you alright? Did she hurt you?"

"I'm not a weakling like you," Bakura answered coolly, taking a few steps closer to the high wire fence, so that his back was facing Ryou. "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever be strong enough to wake up."

It could have been taken as a joke, but there was an undercurrent of mocking that made Ryou tense. "I wouldn't have been sleeping so long if someone hadn't taken most of my energy to summon that card," he snapped. Even as the words flew out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back. He was just tired and that made him grouchy.

"If you're trying to assign blame, you should know that it rests solely on your shoulders, boy." Bakura never turned to face him. He didn't have to. It was all there in the tense set of his shoulders. "You were the one who was prepared to give up the Ring for someone who doesn't even care about you. You were the reason that we had to go there in the first place, and you were the one who took forever searching such a small house. She never would have had a chance to attack if it hadn't been for you and your desire to love someone because of blood ties. I had no choice but to borrow your energy to protect you from being so weak."

Once, when Ryou was younger, his sister had slapped him across the face at the end of an argument. They'd both been children, and she'd been angry, and without thinking, she had lashed out and scored a direct hit on his cheek that had left him dizzy and reeling. At the time, it had been like someone had dumped a glass of freezing cold water over his head. He would never forget that feeling, that sudden break in trust from someone that he had mistakenly believed he could depend on. It had been agony then. It was worse now. His breath seized in his lungs, and he stared, mouth open a little, at the older boy as Bakura's cruel words fully registered.

"You... " he began, flustered. "That's not..."

"It's true." Bakura cut off whatever he had been about to say in his defence. "Don't even try to deny it. It was your fault. Know that I didn't protect you because I wanted to. I did it because I had to. You have to be alive for me to access the power of the Millennium Ring."

There it was, the crux of the matter that had been hanging between them from the moment that they met. Ryou shivered again, suddenly cold, and summoned the strength to push his body into a standing position. His mind was so blank that he couldn't come up with a single word to say. Why the hell had he ever allowed himself to think for even a moment that Bakura might actually care about him? Their relationship was nothing like the one between his friends and their yamis. The older boy had made it more than clear from day one that the bond between them was all about power. Bakura wanted power. Craved it. Had sacrificed himself in a previous life so that he might have it in this one. That was all that mattered to him. If it weren't for the Ring, Bakura probably would have allowed Samira to kill him without thinking twice about it.

"Bakura, I..." Ryou shifted, tried to gain control of the emotions raging through him. He felt off-balance, like something was about to give.

"You are weak," said Bakura, voice cold. "And you will learn to toughen up, Ryou. I will not have such a pathetic partner tied to me for eternity."

That did it. "Bakura, I... I hate you!" Ryou screamed. Not wanting the older boy to see his tears, he whirled around and dashed towards the door, not caring that running made his muscles begin to throb with exhaustion all over again. Without looking back, he yanked the door open and ran down the stairs, through the halls, and sprinted outside into the cool, late afternoon air. Fortunately, there was no one around to question the sight of the tears on his cheeks as he fled.

GMA

There. He'd done it, and the emotional boy had responded remarkably well. Bakura stared dispassionately through the wires as his hikari, the lighter half of his soul, threw the doors of the school open and blindly raced out. His eyes calmly followed Ryou's path until the boy turned the corner at the end of the street and could no longer be seen. The angry words echoed through the air, imprinting themselves onto his very soul. I hate you. If he lived for eternity... if he was reincarnated a hundred times... he would never forget the sound of those words as Ryou cried out in pain. I hate you.

Some time later, the bell rang, signifying that classes had ended for the day. As the students began to fill the yard below him, some heading home and others going to activities, he remained standing in the same spot, eyes still fixed on the place where Ryou had disappeared. His head was throbbing faintly, but it was a distant pain, and he'd suffered through worse. A cold wind was blowing, but he refused to shiver. Minutes ticked by in complete silence as the yard gradually emptied, until finally, he heard footsteps and voices on the stairwell before the door swung open. It had taken them longer than he had imagined for them to realize that he had no intention of going to meet them.

"Bakura, where the hell have you been?" Mariku complained.

"Yeah, I'm starving," Jou whined. "Where are you... hey, where's Ryou?"

Bakura still said nothing as each of the boys behind him switched their attention to the empty spot where the hikari had last been seen. There were no signs to indicate what had happened, but somehow... they knew. Unsurprisingly, it was Yami who understood first, and Yami who had the courage to step forward when the others probably would have shied away and place a hand on his shoulder. Damn the Pharaoh. He gritted his teeth, body tensing against his will beneath the warmth. Crimson eyes narrowed slightly and Yami studied him for a long moment in silence before he spoke.

"Where is Ryou, Bakura?"

"He left," Bakura muttered, speaking for the first time in hours. His throat was so dry that it actually hurt to talk.

"Why?" Yami pressed. "What did you say to him?"

"I reminded him of the truth," came the flat response.

Yami sucked in a breath sharply. The stark, simple sentence told him exactly what Bakura had likely said to the younger boy, and he didn't want to imagine the kind of damage Bakura had probably done. He had been friends with Bakura for a long time, and they were surprisingly close, for all that Bakura often claimed to want to kill him in his sleep. Even though the white-haired boy would never admit it, Bakura was terrified of getting close to anyone. His past had led him to live the life of a loner, his dreams were filled with visions of power, and he'd never wanted to understand that even power would only take him so far. From the looks of it, he'd successfully chased away the one thing that might have been enough to make him understand.

"For your sake, I hope that your light is stronger than you seem to think," he said softly, dropping his hand. He turned, walking quickly back to the others, and sought out Yuugi. There were only two people who would be able to track Ryou down now. "Aibou, you and Malik will have to find Ryou and talk to him. I think that he and Bakura had a fight."

Yuugi frowned, a sceptical look in his violet eyes, but he nodded slowly, willing to take Yami's words at face value for the moment. "We'll go look. I think I know where he would go," he said, grabbing Malik's hand. Malik was scowling at Bakura, a suspicious light in his eyes, but he allowed Yuugi to forcibly drag him out the door. Mariku's and Yami's eyes met, and a silent conversation flashed between the two of them – keep him safe, Mariku - before Mariku turned to follow.

Seto, Jou, and Yami were left standing on the roof by themselves. Jou was glaring at Bakura, but the restraining arm that Seto had wrapped his boyfriend's waist kept him from trying to do the white-haired yami any harm. Yami returned to Bakura's side and placed a gentle but firm hand on the other boy's shoulder again, pulling him away from the wire. Bakura seemed almost shell-shocked, and as he led his friend towards the door, Yami allowed himself to hope that it was because Bakura realized the gravity of what he had done. There was a chance that the fledgling bond between he and Ryou had been ruined beyond repair, and if that was the case... the reincarnated Pharaoh shuddered. It would mean death.

GMA

The cell was dark and silent, too cramped for her to be able to sit up, much less stand, nor was it long enough for her to properly lie down. She was forced into a fetal position on her side, staring blankly through the darkness at the wall that was less than five inches away from her face. Closing her eyes or opening them made no difference. Her ears ached as the oppressive silence pressed in on her, but the pain pounding through her leg was so much worse. Considering that it was a far weaker creature, it should have been an easy thing for her to blow away a Man-Eater Bug... and she had, but not before the damn bug had gored a deep wound into her left thigh. It stung like hell every time she was forced to shift to keep all of her muscles from cramping up completely.

A sound... the door was opening. Samira kept herself still and clamped her lips tightly shut to keep from screaming as hands reached in and dragged her out. She found herself on her knees before two men. The one that she didn't recognize looked at her with a distant expression in his visible brown eye before he glanced away. Her master, on the other hand, was giving her a look of the deepest disgust. Swallowing back the instinctive whimper, she forced herself into a deep, reverent bow, ignoring the fact that the movement caused her wound to tear again. Fresh blood began trickling down over her thigh, staining the floor.

"You have failed me, Dark Witch," her master stated. "Explain to me why I should not have you tortured and sent to the Shadow Realm for your actions."

"Please, Master," she whispered, her body shaking against her will. Facing him in human form was so much worse than when she was her true self. "I apologize. I was unprepared for the strength of the yami. I believed I had subdued him, but he was able to summon a monster to defend his hikari."

Her master's face darkened with rage. Smoothly, he stepped forward and cruelly kicked her in the thigh. She muffled her scream of pain with her hands, knowing that the punishment would be worse for the weakness. "Foolish girl! You still dared to return without the Millennium Ring? When I assign you a mission, I expect you to carry it out no matter what!"

"I'm sorry, Master, I'm sorry," she sobbed. "Please forgive me. Please. I'm sorry. I will do whatever it takes next time, I swear. Give me another chance. Please. I'm sorry."

His eyes narrowed. "You will have one more chance to retrieve the Ring, and if you do not succeed..." he trailed off and she bit back a whimper. If she failed again, it would be better to not return. He turned to the servants that had dragged her from the box. "Take her to the above ground dungeon and allow her two days before sending her back."

"Yes, master," two dull voices intoned. As Samira was dragged away, her master turned to the young man who had looked at her with such disinterest.

"Cynthia?" the man asked, sounding dazed.

"Soon, my light," her master crooned. It was a voice that she had never heard him use before, and it disturbed her so much that she actually began walking, ignoring the pain if it meant getting out of the cave that much sooner. "We will have all of the Millennium Items, and you'll never have to dream about your precious wife again. You will be right there with her."

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