Hi! I'm back with another chapter. Sorry it's a taken a lot longer than the rest of the uploads but I'm currently into my second full week of university and there's been so much going on, I've literally had no time to do anything else other than uni-related stuff. Of course I would choose to pick the hardest degree full of work and 9am lectures, but hey, who said it was easy?

Anyway I've really let the characters run with this one as I said, and I think that really comes out in this chapter. It may be a little different to previous chapters but that's because I was in a down mood when I wrote it so the chapter came out a little angsty. But hey, who doesn't like angsty Bakura?

Again I'm not too sure when the next chapter will be out, my schedule doesn't lighten up at all so I'll be concentrating on that more than anything, but like I said I won't be abandoning this story! I'll see it through to the end. I ask for your patience in updating, and as I know you're all here for the chapter I'll leave and let you get on with it!

My love to the people who have reviewed, you guys are the inspiring ones! Enjoy.

DustyStars

Chapter 8- Alternate Lifestyle

'What am I doing?'

The question entered Bakura's head for the hundredth time that day as he left Marik's apartment and began the long journey towards his own home on the other side of town. Honestly, he had no idea why he was acting the way he was around Marik. Normally Bakura was cold and sarcastic at all times, never getting attached, never looking back. So why was he acting different now?

At first he had been teasing: when Marik had first got into his car all those months ago he had been in a good mood and decided to have a bit of fun, but that had progressed now. He knew there was something about Marik that made him different from everyone else, but what?

Bakura knew Marik was different, after all he hadn't had a conventional childhood himself, perhaps this was what drew him to the teenager…

'No,' he thought as he made a left turn towards the rougher end of town. 'It's different. There's something I'm missing.'

Could it be possible that he wanted to get to know Marik more? That was practically unheard of for Bakura. He didn't care for anyone, he went about his own business and didn't interfere with anyone unless they had something he could gain from them. Hell, he only really put up with Mariku because the guy lived so close to his favourite bar and he needed a place to crash after a night out.

So why was he so intrigued with Marik? The question had haunted him for the past three months, even though he had been resigned to the fact that Marik hated him because of Mariku hurting his friend. Honestly Bakura hadn't expected to see Marik again earlier, and certainly hadn't expected Marik to forgive him for his poor judgement.

He wasn't going to lie to himself, he had been happy that Marik was speaking to him and actually seemed to want to see him again, and happiness wasn't something Bakura felt very often. Not now. It was an almost foreign feeling, but one he would be happy to experience more of.

Bakura sighed as he turned down a small side street of rather dingy houses, some bordered up and others with smashed windows. He was almost home.

Bakura blamed his state of living on his inability to hold down a job. He had told Marik he didn't care what happened to him or where he went, and it was true. Because Bakura knew he had nothing to lose now, and so he wasn't afraid of what life would throw at him. It was a rather liberating feeling actually, knowing that things would never get any worse for him.

Bakura stopped outside a semi-detached house on the left of the street. The upstairs windows had been smashed and roughly bordered up again, and though you couldn't see it from the outside, Bakura knew that the wall separating the interiors of the house had been knocked down to allow for more space inside.

It was his home after all.

It was starting to get dark now, and all over the city lights would be coming on in the windows of houses. But Bakura knew no light would shine in this house. The building had long since been cut off from electricity and water, in fact the whole street had been scheduled for demolition a few months back, but the town planning department was thankfully terrible at organisation and hadn't got round to it yet. The authorities knew Bakura and the others lived there, but as long as they kept out of trouble, they didn't seem to care.

Yes, there were others like him, teenagers and twenty-something year olds who couldn't live anywhere else. They had either been abandoned, or kicked out, or had nowhere else to go, and one way or another they ended up in this house, surrounded by others just like them. It was almost ideal. They didn't have to pay rent or bills, in fact the only contribution they had to make was a small monetary one to the leader of the group, who used it to pay for essentials such as food and equipment for heating food and water, which they got in bottles.

It was only one step up from living on the streets, but it was a hell of a lot safer, and as Bakura tended to squander most of his money on alcohol, it was the only thing he could afford. Besides, Akefia dealt with pretty much everything, and the others that lived there mostly kept themselves to themselves, which was just how Bakura liked it.

To many of them, this house was their sole means of survival.

Bakura sighed again as he headed up the overgrown path to the front door, which was unlocked, for everyone knew there was nothing to steal here. Pushing it open he was greeted by the familiar sight of the open plan living room.

As it was evening, most of the residents were down here instead of out doing work, either sat around the large fire that constantly burned in the fireplace, or moving around the kitchen preparing food for the rest of them.

Akefia kept everyone on a rota for jobs to keep everything running, albeit a lax one, though Bakura was exempt from most of these jobs as Akefia's second. The leader of the group was the oldest resident, and had been living in the house since he was a teenager himself. He was tall, tanned, and had a natural air of authority that made people obey without question. Nobody knew much about his past, but that was mostly because people were afraid to ask questions.

Questions were not welcome here.

People would come here when there was nowhere else for them to go, and it was an unspoken rule that no matter what background they came from, no matter what their past, they would be accepted without prejudice. That was what made it an ideal place for Bakura. He still remembered when Akefia had brought him here all those years ago, given him food, warmth, and shelter when nobody else would. No questions asked. Bakura had been in a bad place back then, and he owed everything to the leader of the group.

Akefia was without a doubt one of the most intimidating people Bakura knew, yet he was also kind. A strange combination.

Pulling himself away from that particular train of thought Bakura looked around the room, hoping to see the tall man, but he was nowhere in sight. There were a group of younger kids sat in the corner playing some sort of card game, some older kids sat around the fire, and the rest seemed to be making some sort of soup. It seemed that Akefia, Atem and the others he normally spoke to weren't going to make an appearance any time soon, so Bakura crossed the room and headed for the stairs.

As he went he felt several pairs of eyes on his back, but he ignored them. The younger kids Akefia brought off the streets were always the inquisitive sort. Most were either orphans or had run away from home, so Bakura could only assume that they were curious as to what a normal life was like. Hah, as if he could tell them! He may look pretty efficient and normal to the untrained eye, but Bakura knew he had never quite been the same since… No, it would not do to dwell on the past.

Angry at himself for thinking such things the white haired man climbed the stairs quickly, emerging at one end of a long corridor that ran all the way around the edges of the house in a square. Akefia had told him that when he first moved into the house part of the upstairs had collapsed, so now there was a large hole in the floor that afforded a view of the downstairs area, with the corridor almost like a gallery above it. Doors were situated regularly along the corridor, and behind each of them was a room that was shared by at least two people to save space.

Bakura was lucky in the fact that he had his own room in the corner, which was about as private as one could get in a layout like this one. The only other person that had his own room was Akefia, which was a given seeing as he was the one who founded the house. Feeling curious eyes still on him, Bakura headed along the corridor until he reached his room, which did have a lock on it, unlike the front door. After finding his key he headed into his room, closing and locking the door behind him.

It was a modest room, rather small, and had probably been a spare bedroom at some point in the past. There was a mattress and some blankets on the floor in the corner that served as a bed, a chair and a battered desk by the small window and a few shelves that held Bakura's modest possessions. The thing he liked most about this room was that it was his space. Nobody could come in here without Bakura's permission, and though he may share the rest of the house with twenty or so other people, this was only place in the world Bakura could call his and his alone.

Bakura headed over to the mattress, shedding his coat and putting it on the chair as he went. Looking around the room, he supposed many people would despair of his situation, probably calling it poverty or deprivation, but Bakura had never thought of it that way. He rather liked where he lived, the fact that nobody bothered him and as long as he kept out of serious trouble he could go on living here quite happily.

He wondered what Marik would think if he knew about Bakura's situation.

'He'd wash his hands of me,' Bakura thought bitterly. 'He wouldn't want anything to do with anyone who can't even afford the cheapest apartment for himself.'

Bakura pulled the small scrap of paper from his pocket and looked at the number on it again. Would it really be wise to get to know Marik better? To let the Egyptian know of how he lived and how he had ended up in such a situation? He didn't want to drag the teen into something he might not be able to get out of… Did Bakura really want to put Marik in danger? Because when you lived with the people Bakura knew, there was always the worry of someone stabbing you in the back. Sometimes for no reason. Trust was a hard thing to come by.

Sighing, Bakura pulled his phone from his pocket and began to write a text. It was a cheap, battered thing that was pretty much the only thing he had ever saved up for in his whole life, but it still worked fine and Bakura hadn't regretted spending the money on it.

'My shift ends at 5 tomorrow, you going to be home?'

Bakura inputted the number on the paper and pressed send before he could think any more about it. If Marik truly wanted to get to know him then Bakura shouldn't worry himself about what Marik would think of his situation.

Before Bakura could dwell any more on the subject there was a knock on his door. The white haired man sighed. The kids in the house knew better than to disturb him, and the older ones only came to him when something needed doing.

Standing and crossing the room Bakura unlocked his door and opened it. He was greeted by the sight of crimson eyes and spiky, unruly hair.

"Hey, Atem."

"Hey." On closer inspection the tanned housemate looked rather worse for wear, and Bakura would have put money on him and Akefia having spent the evening stealing from the houses in the surrounding area.

Atem was another enigma. He had joined the house only a few months after Bakura himself, not a word about his past, and had remained there even when his monetary status didn't demand it any more. Bakura never asked why Atem stayed even though he had a stable job and relationship outside of the house, but he often found himself wondering about the other man's motives.

Unfortunately, he and Atem often didn't see eye to eye, causing too many disputes for them to be anything more than tolerating of each other. Bakura couldn't understand why Atem remained even though he had a better future within his grasp, and Atem resented Bakura for spending all his money on fuelling his drinking habits.

"You and 'Kef been out again?" Bakura asked, and Atem simply snorted in reply.

"You know us too well, Bakura. We're actually planning a heist on KaibaCorp at the moment, though you didn't hear it from me, of course."

"Interesting."

"You want to join us? I'm sure we can find something for you to do."

"I'd rather not."

"Thought you wouldn't."

Bakura glared at Atem. The bastard knew he had no interest in his illegal activities, preferring to work alone, yet here Atem was offering him a job he would never accept.

Leaning against the doorframe Bakura raised an eyebrow. "Is there a particular reason you're here or are you just wanting to piss me off? Because if you are then you're doing a great job of it."

The tan man held his hands up in mock surrender and laughed. "No need to be so rude, I'm just a messenger. Akefia wants to see you for some reason, says it's urgent. He's been pretty distracted all evening though, so it might be something important."

"And he couldn't come himself because…?"

"I dunno." Atem was already turning away, duty done. He often went out of his way to avoid Bakura, so he'd been pretty put out when Akefia had ordered him to seek out the sour-faced Brit. "Just get on with it."

Sighing for what seemed like the hundredth time today, Bakura locked his door behind him and proceeded down the corridor towards the stairs. He had a horrible feeling he wasn't going to like the imminent conversation with the tall ex-Egyptian.

Once he reached ground level, again ignoring the stares that followed him, he headed towards the far corner of the house, where a single room was situated. Normally off limits to all other residents, Bakura knocked on the leader's door.

"Yeah."

Bakura pushed open the door, and was greeted by the sight of Akefia sat behind a rather large desk that took up at least half the room. The other half was occupied by a bed and a chest of drawers, which probably held more of the stolen goods that littered the desk.

"Hey, 'Kura."

"Hey. Atem said you wanted to talk to me?"

Bakura was often careful around Akefia. Most of the time the man treated him like his best friend, as an equal, a brother, but there were times when he was prone to rage and anger, and it was these times where nobody was safe around him. Bakura felt pretty safe at the moment though, Akefia hadn't had an anger attack for a few months now and he was obviously in a good mood if the gold on his desk was anything to go by.

"Yeah, I need to talk to you about the running of the house."

Oh, shit.

"W-what?" Bakura knew where this was heading, and he didn't like it at all.

Sensing Bakura's discomfort Akefia smiled slightly. "I'm going to be leaving soon, Bakura. I've done all I can here and I think we both know I can't stay here forever. You're my second, you have to take over."

Bakura stared, dumbstruck. This wasn't happening to him! Not now, not when he finally had a chance to actually get to know somebody as more than just a friend! If he had to take over here then he'd never be able to leave…

"How long?" he asked quietly, trying not to betray his emotions through his voice.

"I don't know yet. Soon though."

"Soon…"

Akefia looked at him sympathetically, able to read the emotions on Bakura's face as easily as a book. He really didn't want to do this to Bakura right now, but he knew the time had come for him to leave this world behind and start over. It was painful but necessary.

Akefia bowed his head, running a hand through his silver hair and closing his eyes. Truth be told he honestly expected Bakura to stay in the house for the whole of his life. The white haired man had a bad drinking habit that Akefia had sometimes tried to talk him out of, but he was never able to make Bakura see sense. If the habit persisted Akefia could never see Bakura making enough money to be able to move out or make anything of himself.

Not to mention that Bakura's social skills were severely lacking, so he couldn't count on the white haired man ever becoming close enough to anyone for them to share their life with him.

"Why now?"

Akefia looked up and was surprised to see that Bakura looked angry and hurt. He had expected no trouble in passing the leadership over to his second, yet here he was looking as though he was one step away from rejecting it.

"You're the only one that can," he said carefully. "Everyone here knows you and you've been my second ever since you came here. It has to be you."

Bakura took a deep breath, trying to block out the roaring in his ears. Finally he might have found an opportunity to get out and Akefia was right here telling him to forget it! "How come you never mentioned this before? I've not heard a single thing about this until now and all of a sudden you're leaving and in doing so tying me to this house and these people for the next few years at least!"

Akefia could tell Bakura was getting angry, though for the life of him he couldn't work out why. He would have thought Bakura would like to be the one in charge here!

"You know I can't do it, 'Kef," Bakura continued, his voice raising. "You know the others look at me as though I'm some sort of museum exhibit, you know none of them talk to me because I shut them all out! I don't know the first thing about taking care of anyone other than myself and I sure as hell don't want to be stuck here for the rest of my life! I finally have something good happen to me in my miserable life and you want to take it away from me by tying me down to this house?"

Akefia snapped.

"You owe everything to this house, Bakura. Everything! Without me and this house you would be on the streets just like you were when I found you! The least you can do is repay me by allowing me to have the freedom I never had!"

Akefia stood, glaring at Bakura as though daring his second to retaliate.

"You want your freedom at the expense of mine! You're going to leave those kids out there with someone they barely know and are probably scared of, when they actually trust you to look after them!" Bakura was glaring at Akefia now, hands curled into fists, but he wasn't finished yet.

"You're acting like you don't give a shit about them, you know. You've always said you do what's best for them, but you know when you leave this whole house will collapse. You know I'm barely at home in the day and only come back a few evenings a week! You know I have a fucking drinking habit and you really think it's wise for you to leave me in charge of people who have nobody else to look after them? No way in hell!"

"Bakura, think about what you're saying!" Akefia shouted. "They need someone to care for them and I just can't do it anymore! I need to have my own life! I know you can help them!" There was a slight pause. "It's not like you have anywhere else to go, Bakura!"

Bakura who had been about to shout a retort, stopped dead.

"What?" His voice was deadly low, and Akefia knew that somehow, he had struck a nerve.

"You know it's true, Bakura," he said quietly. "You'll never have enough money to afford your own place, and you don't have anyone outside the-"

"SHUT UP!"

Bakura was one step away from murdering everyone in the building. He would have probably done it too, if it wouldn't cause unpleasant consequences such as jail. He guessed his homicidal thoughts were showing on his face because Akefia backed up slightly and actually shut up.

Breathing heavily, Bakura lowered his head and attempted to control his anger, which was no easy task. After a few moments, he felt able to speak again.

"You don't know anything about me, Akefia. All you know is that I have no family, and you think that gives you the right to tell me how alone I am? You think I don't know that? You make me sick." Bakura's voice was shaking now, and he knew that if he didn't leave soon then he'd do something he may later come to regret.

"As it turns out though, I do have people I know outside this house. So you're wrong aren't you? You're wrong about me, Akefia. I'm not going to stay here and do your job for you."

Bakura turned to leave before Akefia could think of anything to say in return.

"You can leave if you want, 'Kef, but I'm not going to stay and pick up the pieces for you. You're not the only one that wants their life back."

Bakura left the room before Akefia could stop him, slamming the door with more force than necessary, and, ignoring the shocked faces surrounding him, headed straight for the front door.

Without a backward glance, Bakura left the house he had lived in for years and headed out into the night.