You can't measure a man's spirit or soul, can you?
The spirit had been unusually dormant in the back of Ryou's mind this morning, and despite what you might assume, this actually put the student more on edge than usual. A quiet spirit was a thinking spirit, and a thinking spirit was never a good one.
However, Ryou decided, as the clock slowly reached for noon, that he couldn't lie in bed all day and wait for the spirit to take control, especially as it looked as if the spirit had every intention of staying in his Soul Room or… wherever he went to think.
Reluctantly,Ryou forced himself out of his bed and wandered out into the apartment, slowly peering around for Malik, but there was no sign of the blond, not that he was surprised. Malik was as quiet as an elephant on roller-skates, and Ryou hadn't heard a peep all morning, so it seemed the blond, too, was having a lie-in.
Since the situation with Malik's darker half, the spirit had taken control of Ryou daily and routinely, not giving Ryou much time in his own body. Ryou wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed but was immensely happy for the winter break; he couldn't afford to miss much more school. He continued about the apartment, wandering to the small kitchenette to prepare breakfast. Well, lunch now.
He moved about the cupboard, looking for anything that would make a decent meal, but with the spirit in control of his body so frequently lately it seemed he had once again neglected shopping. With a sigh Ryou found some crumpets and shoved them in the toaster before putting the kettle on; it was turning out to be more like breakfast anyways.
He stood and waited patiently for both the toaster and kettle when suddenly ghostly fingers caressed his neck. The familiar weight of the ring around his neck was gone, and he heard it clanging against the tiled kitchen floor. Ryou looked down, startled, staring at the ring now on the floor, all its spikes splayed out like a squashed spider. The sudden noise in the silent apartment had sent Ryou's nerves on edge and he took a moment to calm himself and relax. The string he kept the ring on was very old. It must have just given way, he was sure he kept some spare string in the drawer by the sink…
He turned and was greeted with the bare tanned chest of Malik Ishtar. Ryou actually gasped out loud, genuinely surprised with the tanned boy's sudden tact in stealth. Malik was, as mentioned before, not the quietest of roommates, so how on earth had he…?
"Don't look so frightened," the warped voice finally spoke up, signally to Ryou that this was not in fact Malik Ishtar, but rather his darker half. With his nerves already drawn tight, his adrenaline quickly came into play and he spun and ducked down to grab the ring off the floor. A booted foot came down and crashed down on the golden ring, stopping Ryou's advance.
Sod the ring. Get out. He scolded himself and attempted to dart around the psychopath. Unfortunately, he was much to slow and the other had grabbed both of his arms and forced him up against the counter top, crushing the small of his back, "I said, don't look so frightened," the voice repeated, however this time he sounded almost… offended?
Ryou looked up at the slanted empty eyes and wild hair and wondered how he ever mistook this man for his roommate; they were painfully different in appearance, especially since they shared the same body.
"That's better," a grin spread across the tanned face, like a crescent moon. "How're you doing, cotton ball? Sorry about your ring." He kicked his foot and sent the ring sliding across the tiled floor, far out of reach. "Can't have that pestering thief getting in our way again, can we?"
"I-in the way of w-what?" He was beyond surprised to hear his own voice and just as annoyed at the stutter. He frowned to try and appear more demanding and less like a shaking lamb, however this simply seemed to amuse the other.
"Oh wow, determined little cotton ball," the twisted version of Malik puffed out his cheeks and frowned, mimicking Ryou's expression and causing Ryou to gape at the childish imitation.
"Do you mind?!" He began to struggle against the other, suddenly a lot less intimidated by this man.
"Aha! But I do~ I just want to talk to you, cotton ball."
"Stop calling me that!" Ryou yelped, sick and tired of the childish nickname Malik had so fondly given him.
"Ah… How come I'm not allowed to use it and my lesser self can? What would you prefer? Landlord? Yan-do-no-shi-sama~" he drew out the last nickname in a teasing singsong manner making Ryou's cheeks and temper flare.
"I'd rather you not call me a thing!"
"Bakura? Ryou? No one really calls you by your real name, now do they?" the shadow mused, pushing Ryou up against the counter again when the smaller boy continued to struggle. "Bakura Ryou, or in your home country, Ryou Bakura, right? Which do you prefer? My, aren't names strange…?"
Ryou gawked at the other's wondering and conversational tone. Was this seriously the same violent man he had dealt with before?
"See, I have a problem with my own name," the shadow began again. "My lesser half, Malik, is not so keen to share an identity with me, though I must admit I too grow tired of being grouped with him by that old tiresome name. However, unlike him I still acknowledge in truth we are one and the same. So help me cotton ball, I'd like to acquire a name,"
Ryou continued to stare in silence until his voice slowly came back to him; "w-why would I help you?" he begun but the other was quick to reply.
"I'll call you Ryou." He offered, his harsh grip on Ryou's arms slackening somewhat. "I mean, that's fair is it not? I'll acknowledge your true name if you help me identify with my own."
"…But why me? Can't you do it yourself?"
"Nu-uh~" Again that mocking tone, "You're the master of English and Japanese and somewhere in that muddled head there's even some knowledge of Egyptian and Arabic. I mean, I should know! I had a good poke around in there when I got the chance," One hand now left Ryou arm to poke his temple, irritatingly.
Ryou reeled his head back to get away from the annoying touch, feeling like he was back in elementary school with a bully on his chest. "Fine! Just stop that, would you, please?"
"So polite even when so irritated… How peculiar," Finally the shadow stepped back, releasing Ryou from his grasp but still keeping him cornered in the kitchenette and far out of reach of the ring. He spread his arms wide and Ryou was reminded of the fact the shadow was, for whatever reason, topless. "Come on then, Ryou. Name me!"
Ryou pondered over Malik's name for a moment, the idea of calling the shadow 'Ishtar' occurred to him but he didn't feel the goddess of love was a befitting name for this deranged man. He only thought on it a short while before answering, "It's rather simple really; Marik," Ryou supplied and the other arched a curious blond eyebrow at him.
"Explain."
"W-well, the Japanese language has no sound for 'R' and in translation from English or plenty of other languages, the 'R' is often replaced with an 'L.' Marik is an actual Arabic name … so… I-I don't know I can think of a better one…" Ryou mumbled. He wasn't quite sure if his facts were straight, he knew surprisingly little about the Arabic language in truth.
"No." The other tapped his chin in contemplation before that splitting grin was back. "Marik, I like it." He clasped his hands together, and suddenly the toaster jumped to life beside them, causing both of their heads to turn. "Breakfast! I haven't eaten in… I... I don't think I've ever eaten. What are we having?" The deranged shadow—or rather, Marik—hurried across the kitchenette excitedly and leant on the counter, peering into the toaster.
"I'm having crumpets," Ryou explained, still uttering baffled by this man'sseemingly carefree behaviour.
"Great! They sound as good a food as any to start off with, I'll have some too."
Ryou's brow furrowed in confusion, but he decided it best to keep Marik in this happy and carefree state. After all, he was much more appealing than he had been on their first encounter. His hand subconsciously went up to rub the back of his head, where it had collided painfully with the door and he winced at the memory. "R-right then… Of course." Ryou went about his normal routine, except now he was making tea and crumpets for two rather than for one. Once they were done, he set them down on the counter.
Marik wasted no time at all before digging into his food and drink, and Ryou too hurriedly ate his food. When both of them were about half way done with their respected meals, Marik looked up, his mouth full of crumpet and his nose wrinkled. "This is disgusting." He spat the remainder of his mouthful onto his plate and Ryou pulled a face.
"You managed to eat that much! What's the problem now?" He gaped in distress at the other's poor table manners.
"I thought it might get better," he said, pushing the plate away. "I was wrong."
Ryou finished his meal in silence, feeling insanely awkward and anxious. He wanted desperately to put the ring back on and to let the spirit deal with this strange situation, but the ring lay on the other side of the kitchen. And to make it worse, there was a psychopath between them.
"I like my name," Marik suddenly spoke up again. "Use it. Ask me a question. Ask 'Marik' a question."
Ryou fumbled over his words for a moment, not sure what on earth one was expected to ask a murdering alter ego who had just popped in for lunch. He gazed over the other with a perplexed expression. Before he could stop himself, the words escaped him, "Marik, why is your hair so big?"
"Because that's where my soul is," he replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"…W-what?!" Ryou spluttered, and to his surprise, the shadow stared at him with a sincerely serious expression.
"Surely you know?" Marik questioned, tilting his head to the side.
Ryou raised an eyebrow. "That your soul is in your hair?"
"Not just mine… Everyone's. When souls exchange in a body, their hair changes, right?"
Ryou pondered over this newfound information, and to his horror, it made sense so far.
"The Pharaoh, Yugi, you, me, Malik, and the thief; we all differ in hair when we 'change' annnnnd~" He was speaking playfully again, which made Ryou wonder if he was even in the slightest bit serious. "The more soul you have the more… extravagant your hair is."
"So, the spirit has more soul than I do?"
"Yup!"
"Well that's hardly right!"
"Nu-uh~ The spirit has lived muuuuuch longer than you and seen so much more than you. Now he doesn't have a physical body his soul manifests strength in the only way it can: hair!"
"That's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard!" Ryou turned away and stared deeply into his now empty tea mug.
"You only think it's ludicrous because you're offended," A tanned hand reached forward and stroked Ryou's own white locks. "You've only lived a very short while and look at your hair. It's white. It shows from the moment you were born you were destined to have a big soul. Like the Pharaoh, and like Malik."
"…D-did you just compliment me? Did you just compliment me, Malik, and the Pharaoh?!" He gasped in disbelief, but even as he whipped his attention from his mug to the other, Marik's hand fell from his hair, suddenly looking like a very sleepy child. "M-Marik… Are you ok?"
"Hmm… not for much longer…" he mumbled and rested his head against the counter. "Not Marik for much longer… Malik…"
Suddenly his eyes were closed and realisation dawned on Ryou; he was asleep! Before the other had a chance to wake up, Ryou darted across the kitchenette to grab the ring and tie it back around his neck. When he turned back to the sleeping Marik, he noticed that the other's hair had deflated, and his body looked much more relaxed. Ryou had never been more pleased in his life to see Malik Ishtar.
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooo
A/N: To day you learnt your hair is where your soul is kept. Don't question our logic, me and Y!Malik are the epitome of logic.