Sorry y'all for taking forever to post. School has kept me busy and I lost motivation to write. It's coming back bit by bit. Thanks for being patient.

I lost my plot notebook. So I'm basically making up everything again. I'm going to try to go off my ideas that I remember. I have two big ones that I remember—the reason why Murzix and Azazel were introduced in the first place—but besides that… *shrug* Bear with me please.

I have a poll going on about whether you guys like the two OCs! Go check it out!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Murzix and Azazel, however, are my sister's and mine.


Chapter 8

The Lion and the Mouse

"Where would you like this maze?"

Murzix and Azazel left the castle far behind and wandered in a much lighter part of the Shadow Realm, blue and grey shadows slinking on the ground and hanging in the dead air like moss on trees. Azazel's form shifted with this change of shadow density; his tie was the only part of his attire that remained pitch black. His shirt and pants lightened to match the shadows drifting around him and his grey skin picked up a blue-ish tint.

"Somewhere in this vicinity." The shadow waved his hand generally.

"Why here? Knowing you, you would like it somewhere a bit… darker."

Azazel grinned. "How true that is. Clearly you don't know mortals. They are not particularly fond of wandering in places where they cannot see. Here is just fine."

Murzix raked his eyes across the area, mentally building his creation. "The spell will take three days." He said factually.

A chuckle rumbled in the back of Azazel's throat. "Splendid. That gives me more time to play with our guests." He clapped his hands excitedly and the shadows around stirred and sparked with life. His tie swayed lethargically, the end flicking around like a cat watching its prey.

The magician glanced at his colleague and blew air out of his nose before muttering something under his breath. Wioqu suddenly popped out of nowhere and chittered urgently at his master. Murzix, whose hands were calmly placed at his sides, frowned hard and his hands lit up in a quick burst of flame before turning swiftly toward Azazel.

"According to Wioqu, an 'old friend' would like an audience with us." He said threw his teeth.

Azazel blinked lazily and clenched his jaw. "I swear to Ra if he so much as looks at them, I will send him so far down into the Duat it will take him a millennia to get back here."

"Wouldn't we all like to see that happen," Murzix muttered. "Wioqu, what is his form?"

The green orb fluttered about and chattered something that made Murzix sigh in relief.

"He's in his human-esque form, so we do not have to fret him going prima donna on us for looking like humans. I was not about to change." He narrowed his eyes. "Not for him."

"I don't know," Azazel replied, "I quite like my beast form... as well as some others." He grinned and a ripple of shadows ran over his body, changing his form as they quickly passed over him. His pants became shorts and the long sleeve, button-down shirt reduced itself to short sleeves, and the shirt unbuttoned a bit too low, but still tucked into the shorts. Dress shoes became thigh-high, stiletto leather boots and hair, still tied back in a ponytail, grew to the waist. The only thing that remained unchanged was the black tie swaying in a non-existent breeze.

Murzix pinched the bridge of his nose in response to the full-figured female who smiled suggestively at him. "Oh, for Ra's sake!"

"What?" The now female—and many inches shorter—Azazel pouted, inching closer to the magician. "You don't like?"

"Azazel, stop fooling around."

"Azazel?" She said, a grin crossing her face as she closed in on the too-reserved-to-show-nervousness magician. "My name is Aziza."

Murzix crossed his arms just as Aziza reached him. She smirked and snaked her hands around his neck and tilted her head to the side, pressing her full chest and against his. Murzix's eyes narrowed just the smallest bit. She looked at him for another minute then scoffed and backed away.

"You're too tall and skinny anyway," she smirked. "Beanpole. You should eat a sandwich or something."

"You can make the most patient man mad in two minutes of your company," he retorted.

"You're such a spoil sport," Shadows rippled over the girl and Azazel returned to normal. "There are reasons why I am your only friend."

"Really. I had no idea we were friends." Murzix said icily.

Azazel beamed widely. "Neither did I."

/…\

To everyone's surprise, it was Ryou who broke the seemingly unending silence.

The trio of unlikely companions walked soundlessly through the thick and choking, gas-like green fog for about three days Shadow Time. As soon as Bakura literally ran into Malik and Ryou, he frowned and continued to walk forward. The Egyptian and Brit shrugged at each other and, each knowing they were going to regret it, got up and followed the spirit, Ryou right behind him and Malik as the caboose of their awkward train. Bakura didn't try to shake them either; he needed Ryou when he got out and Malik was the only who could truly get rid of the pest that called himself a yami. He could deal with the silence; thinking was always best when there was no noise. However, the waves of hate and anger that pulsed off Malik and crashed into Bakura constantly was way beyond infuriating. Still, he did not say anything. He already gave his opinions and thoughts a while ago and didn't feel the need to address anything. He left nothing unsaid and made his point and had no interest in what this… boy, this human, this simple mortal, had to say.

And unexpectedly, like a sudden gunshot, Ryou spoke up.

"Who are you?" he asked quietly.

Bakura stiffened slightly and stopped. After a pause he said gruffly, "I am the Spirit of the Millennium Ring."

"What is your name?"

He closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows in a quick, slightly annoyed fashion. "Bakura."

"No it's not," Ryou continued to press calmly. "That is the name you gave yourself. What is your real name?"

"Why does it concern you?" Bakura countered.

"Because I have a right to know the name of the person who uses my body to do his bidding." Ryou answered, the same eerie calm in his voice.

The Spirit was soundless for a long time. Slowly, he turned to face his host and was almost surprised by how still Ryou was. The usual fear in his eyes was absent, replaced with an almost vacant look; he was guarded and composed, no sign of emotion on his normally expressive face. He waited patiently for Bakura to answer.

"Do you realize how insignificant you are to me?" he replied. "I don't talk to you because you are a tool."

Ryou's placid façade cracked into the smallest expression of pain before he sealed up the fissure and returned to his calm demeanor. "Yes, but this tool is aware of his user." He took a step closer to Bakura and lowered his eyebrows the tiniest bit. "What is your name?"

"What brought on this confrontation?" Bakura's eyes flickered to Malik who was watching with eyes wide and mouth agape; he was beyond astonished with Ryou. "Did you have anything to do with this sudden change of perspective?"

Malik shook his head urgently. "I said nothing. This is Ryou's own doing."

"Yadonashi," Bakura smirked broadly, "it looks like you finally grew a spine. I am almost impressed."

Ryou took a breath, still keeping eye contact with his darker half. "I am still very much afraid of you. There is no point of hiding it since you'll find out," he lowered his eyes, "sooner or later." He returned his gaze to the ever-patient spirit. "I have been trying to figure out who you are since the Ring started to cause problems for me seven years ago. I have asked you twice before and you just gave me vague answers. Yes, you are the Spirit of the Millennium Ring. You call yourself Bakura, but that is not your name. It's mine. Tell me your name." Bakura's eyes flashed and Ryou added a hasty, "Please."

The spirit clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at his host. "In this form, my name is Bakura."

"What was your name five thousand years ago?"

"That is my business." Bakura glowered, a shadow passing over his face. "Don't you dare test me, boy."

The calm front Ryou was so careful to maintain finally shattered and fright bled into his eyes. Maybe he was wrong to confront the spirit. Since the day he and Malik were in the Hall of Mirrors, he decided to face his darker half and ask all the questions that were floating around in his mind for many years. When he finally mustered enough courage to ask the most prominent question, he was shot down.

Bakura cocked his head to the side, his expression fading to mild amusement. "Fine. I'll humor you since you were able to keep that up for the length you did. I was once known as Thief King."

Ryou mouthed the name and scrunched his eyebrows. "You stole things?"

"Have you not noticed the various items that seem to appear around the apartment?" Bakura rolled his eyes. "Ra, you are dense."

"It's kinda hard to notice things when you're trapped in the darkness a majority of the time." Malik piped up, giving the spirit a look of disdain.

"Oh, so you're his body guard?" Bakura mocked. "How cute."

"He's not my body guard," Ryou snapped, then recoiled a little when Bakura looked at him. "We stuck with each other because we're the only sane ones here. We're defending each other so we can get out."

"Though, I do know more about the Shadow Realm," Malik said factually.

"Not helping, Malik."

"Sorry."

Ryou's confidence grew as he spoke. "We stuck together because it'd be pointless to go off by ourselves." He watched Bakura and his eyes widened at a sudden realization. "You knew that. You knew we wouldn't leave each other, which is the reason you let me go. If Malik wasn't here, you would've—"

"Dragged you around on a leash, yes." Bakura lifted an eyebrow. "Very perceptive. You're not as useless as I thought."

"You never thought I was useless. If I was, you would've killed me years ago." Ryou gasped out loud at his discovery and stumbled backwards, running into Malik who grabbed his shoulders.

"I couldn't kill you if I wanted to," Bakura said darkly.

"Why?" Malik asked. "You didn't seem that kind when we briefly formed an alliance and killed those other people. You don't even touch victims when you kill them. What makes Ryou different?"

Bakura closed his eyes and crossed his arms. "I have given you both more information than I care to share with anyone."

A silent tear ran down Ryou's cheek. "I have a right to know." He said quietly.

"Besides the fact," Bakura chided, "that you are the only compatible host I have ever had?"

"Compatible?" Ryou gasped, horrorstruck. "What am I, software?"

Bakura glared at Malik. "He knows what I'm talking about."

The Brit sharply turned his head at Malik. "What? What does he mean?"

Malik's eyes hardened. "You're the same as the pharaoh."

"We are not the same," he growled. "The situation is."

"You killed the ones you didn't need."

"I didn't kill them, they did it to themselves. You already mentioned that I don't touch my victims. Not unless they're a special case."

Malik released Ryou and charged into Bakura's face. "You know what? You're as immoral as Marik."

"Don't you dare compare me to that disgrace." He threatened.

The Egyptian scowled at him. "I can compare you to him any day," he hissed. "I know him better than anyone and you are just like him. And I know enough about you to compare Marik to you. You may not enjoy the mess of murder, but you still find satisfaction in it. You are sick. You are undeserving of Ryou. He doesn't deserve this fate."

"Malik," Bakura contested, "get out of my face if you revere your life."

It took a minute, but after a hard glare, Malik backed off. "I don't know exactly who you are, but I know what you are." He crossed back to Ryou who had slumped to the ground in complete and utter shock, uncontrollable tears spilling out of his eyes. "Ryou."

The Brit raised his head at the sound of his name, but kept his eyes to the ground. "Y-yes?"

"In these months that we've been trapped here, we've grown to know each other quite well." He squatted down to Ryou's level. "As your friend, I cannot tell you why you are different to Bakura. That is something you will learn in time if fate allows it."

Ryou's face suddenly deadpanned and the tears abruptly stopped. His eyes snapped up at Malik's face and Malik almost fell out of shock. A new expression, one Malik didn't know Ryou was capable of, suddenly surfaced. His eyes hardened and the look of complete detestation and wrath bored into Bakura.

"How could you…" he said gravelly. "How could you do that to someone for so long?" The fog began to swirl around Ryou. Malik backed up quickly.

"I am notsome wind up toy that gets put on the shelf once you're done playing with it." Ryou's voice found a deeper tone to it, his voice echoing slightly with every word. "I am not a landlord or a host that you can just leech life off. I am not a tool. You are a pathetic, filthy parasite who just so happens to look just like me. And I hate you." An explosion of shadows erupted from Ryou's feet and wrapped themselves around Malik and Bakura, lifting them high into the air. Ryou's body pulsed off a dark aura; his eyes opened as wide as humanly possible, and his irises black as night. Shadows wrapped themselves around his frail frame and slipped into mouth. Just as it started, it quickly stopped. The shadows around Bakura and Malik dropped them and slipped away. The remaining shadows disappeared and Ryou collapsed on the ground.

There was a brief moment before Malik asked tentatively, "What was that?"

Bakura sighed tiredly. "That was Ryou's Shadow Magic being released. I've been repressing it for years and it just… exploded in his anger. I never realized how powerful his magic is." He bit the inside of his cheek.

Malik looked slowly at Bakura. "Did you actually just admit that?" He asked, half incredulous.

"If you repeat that to anyone," Bakura growled ominously, "I will send you back here."

Malik glared at Bakura for good measure then looked back at the fainted British teen. He sighed and looked at Bakura. "This will be one of the last times I will ask you for assistance." He stipulated. "Help me get him on my back."

Bakura rolled his eyes and picked up his light and placed him on Malik's back. "We can't do anything much until he wakes, so we walk."

"Why?" the Egyptian asked. "Can't you open a portal to get us out?"

"Ah," Bakura smirked. "You have realized why I went searching for you."

"We were searching for you for the same reason. Ryou's deck," Malik retorted. "I'm not stupid. My magic without an Item isn't strong enough to open a portal. You as well. And now that Ryou's magic is unlocked, we have enough power to open a portal with the Dark Door Spell Card."

"Very perceptive." Bakura gestured to Malik in an almost un-characteristic-like fashion, a leer on his face. "Shall you lead the way?"

"Piss off." The Egyptian curled his lip and passed in front of the spirit. Bakura halfway smiled and followed Malik into the murk.


BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA. This went waaaaaaaay different than how I thought. I really like it though! Haha! Review?

Over and out,

Mahersal