A/N: I think I should scrap the posting schedule, since I'm obviously too inept to stick to it properly. Rest assured that chapters up to 16 (out of 22) are written and just waiting for edits and formatting to go up. I'll be beating myself over the head to sit and focus on it, but yeah, taking away the schedule, as in that direction only lays disappointment.

Historian's Note: This story takes place before, during and (eventually) after the original story through Millennium World, following the canon established in the manga. There will be spoilers, so proceed with caution.

Soundtrack: 'Haunted' on 8tracks.

Beta: SkyTurtle.

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING. Fairly graphic descriptions of wounds, injuries and death/near death.

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! and related characters are © to Kazuki Takahashi.

Haunted

Part X

Raven Ehtar

Within the metallic confines of the Millennium Ring, the spirit raged.

So close! He had been so close! The Millennium Puzzle had been right there, against all the odds of probability. Despite centuries, miles and the interference of many generations of fools, two Millennium items had come together in such a way that he'd been given the perfect opportunity to take it for himself. And he'd failed!

The spirit's memory was hazy in places when it came to the events of 3,000 years ago. Having one's soul locked in a prison for so long was bound to have negative effects; some memory loss was to be expected. The problem was only exacerbated by the fact that he was not alone in his prison. Other souls shared the Ring with him - the very souls that had gone into the making of this and every other Millennium item. With them pressing close in on him for millennia, confused, in pain, terrified, they had had their effect on him as well. With no bodies to keep their thoughts separate, he and they had eventually fused together into a sort of gestalt soul: one which was made from the parts of many. And he, the soul of the Ring, who knew why they were all there and was awaiting the time when he could at last act on the world, was one of them.

In such circumstances it was understandable, possibly even forgivable that some memories were harder to recall than others. Yet despite that, he was certain - certain - that the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle was the soul he most wished to find. The Pharaoh.

He had been so close! In a single confrontation he could have imprisoned the soul of the Pharaoh into an object no more magical than a stone, and then there would have been none who could stop him. As a bonus he would have had several other prisoners in his collection, including his own host, Ryou Bakura.

With the powers of the Ring and the Puzzle, he would have no need for the soul of Ryou Bakura. Such power would grant him the ability to take the boy's body completely, with no need to give it up to its original owner to rest. With that limitation removed, he would have been free to seek out the remaining Millennium items. No longer would he have to wait and depend upon luck. He could use Ryou Bakura's body and hunt them all down, wherever they might be hidden.

So close to winning it all, and instead he'd lost all everything! The spirit of the Ring shrieked his frustration and impotent fury against the walls of his centuries' long prison. He raked against the boundaries with talons that had no more effect than a breeze and swore his vengeance on all those who had denied him his victory. He cursed the Pharaoh and his vessel, Yugi Mutou, and all of his friends - Honda, Jonouchi and Anzu.

The one receiving the most venomous of his curses was not the man responsible for his imprisonment of millennia, however. No, those were reserved for the architect of his most recent failure and to whom his vengeance would be denied even more assuredly than any of the others.

Ryou Bakura.

His gracious host, in whom he had found a mind and body he could inhabit. The one whose body he had occasionally been able to borrow, to live and breathe again. Through his host he had been able to feel the simple physical pleasure of having flesh, at being able to see with eyes, to smell scents carried on the wind, to feel with fingers all those textures the living took for granted. In Ryou Bakura's body, he had discovered a world so changed after three thousand years as to be completely unrecognizable, amid a people so different from his own they may as well have come from another world entirely. It was through the mind of Ryou Bakura that he was able to comprehend any of it at all. It was his memories that opened this new world to him, that made it possible for him to function, to stretch out and seek what he had waited for for so long.

It was also Ryou Bakura who had snatched his victory from him.

The spirit snarled, talons bared against those remnants of other souls that drifted too close. They parted, weeping pathetically as they fell away from the heat of his ire.

Weak boy! Had the spirit not, years ago, wished to kill him so the Millennium Ring might free to seek out some other, more suitable host? He had, he remembered that moment of six years ago very well. He had reasoned that a weak host, while initially undesirable, had distinct advantages over one that was strong. A weak host would be easier to control, to deceive, to overpower once he had regained a little of his own strength. It was Ryou Bakura's weakness which had saved him all those years ago.

Where had all of that weakness gone, then?!

Somehow the boy had found the strength not only to resist him, but to actually fight against him. Bit by bit during the game of Monster World he had regained control of his body, sabotaging the game and stealing the spirit's victory.

Had he misjudged Ryou Bakura all those years ago? Had the boy some hidden reserve, a secret strength that had gone unnoticed all this time? Or had he grown stronger in the time between then and now? If he had grown in strength, then where had that come from? There had been nothing, no battles that Ryou Bakura had been forced to fight which would have toughened him, given him the power he needed in order to resist the spirit's hold.

It must have been an effect of his own presence, the spirit decided. Just as he had gained the knowledge of this new time and country, Ryou Bakura must have gained something as well. It would explain how he had managed to do what he had during the game, how the boy had the fortitude to dig he way back to the surface from the deep place the spirit had stuck him, and how he knew how to defy him.

It made sense. That must have been what had happened. Ryou Bakura had used the strength of the Ring against him and freed himself and his new friends.

The knowledge that it was his own strength turned against him by his host did nothing to calm the spirit. In fact, it angered him even more. It would have been bad enough had Ryou only used the stolen strength to thwart him in his plan to take the Millennium Puzzle and imprison those souls brought to him. But Ryou Bakura could not be satisfied with just that, no. The boy, in his efforts to save his friends, had sacrificed his own soul. He had cast himself into nothingness in order to protect some people he barely knew.

Ryou Bakura was dead. The spirit had watched as his host sacrificed himself, unable to stop him or save the soul he was throwing away. And now, with no host, he was once again trapped in the Millennium Ring until another host was found. All while another Millennium item lay tantalizingly within reach, he was stuck in a ring of metal.

Ryou Bakura was dead.

Some of the rage churning inside the spirit drained out of him as that realization settled into place. His host of six years, the only suitable host the Ring had found in three thousand years, was dead, killed himself rather than see his friends hurt.

The spirit had witnessed so much death when he had been alive, and had been the cause of so much death himself that he was desensitized to the general horror of its realities. He had died himself long ago and made a prisoner of the Ring. The concept of death was no more disturbing to him than eating or sleeping. It was simply a thing that happened.

The implications of Ryou Bakura's death, however, did disturb him. Without his host, the spirit was once again trapped, nearly powerless without his means of reaching out into the world. The sort of semi-freedom he had enjoyed over the last few, brief years was once again gone, and all he could do was wait.

And all because Ryou Bakura was dead. Was there some way, something that he could have done that would have saved the boy? Had it been a failure on his own part which resulted in Ryou Bakura's death, and if he had done anything different would he even now still be alive? The spirit thought carefully about his host, about the limited interactions they'd had over the years, searching for any fault, any clue that might point to how he'd been allowed to die.

For the most part, any 'interaction' between them had been very limited and indirect. The exchange of memories was necessary to strengthen the link between them, and for the boy that meant vivid dreams of the spirit's past. On occasion when the bond and the spirit were both strong enough for the experience, he had taken Ryou Bakura's body for himself and gone out to experience the new world first hand. And, of course, those times when he had reached out through his host to capture the souls of those he played his games with, though those incidents were never anything so energetic as what he had done when going up against Yugi Mutou and the others.

In all of these things, Ryou Bakura had remained ignorant. The spirit had made especially certain of that. All of the dreams, no matter how vivid, were forgotten within minutes of waking. The times the spirit went out with the boy's body, his consciousness had been deeply buried. And all of those friends snatched during games… well, the boy had been awake and aware at those times, but completely unaware that the reason his friends were falling unconscious around him was coming from him.

That had been the spirit's way of protecting his host. He might have argued that it was to protect himself, that if his host were aware of the presence of another soul he might find a way to reject him, but it was just as much for the boy's protection, if not more so. He had done his best to protect Ryou Bakura from the madness within the Ring. By holding him apart from the many spirits within, he had spared Ryou Bakura. He had preserved the boy's sanity.

Had that been a mistake, he wondered?

In sparing the boy madness, had he left him too much independence, too much autonomy? By leaving his will more or less his own, it was possible that the spirit had set in place all the pieces needed which had led to the awful conclusion seen not long ago.

He ought to have exerted more effort, more control over his host, he saw that now. It would have been a more difficult path than the one he had chosen, but not impossible. To allow Ryou to be aware of a second soul sharing his body, to retain the memories he relived at night, and to keep control over his body even with that knowledge would have offered up more of the challenge, there was no doubt. Like taming a horse to rein and saddle, it would have been dangerous, but in the end the rewards he would have reaped would have made it all worthwhile.

Instead, when the moment had come and the spirit could have used that control over his host, he had been left fumbling. And as a result, Ryou…

It was his fault. It was his fault that Ryou was dead now. If he had only tried harder, had gone to just a little more effort, then the boy would still be alive. It was all due to his negligence that his host had perished. If only he had done more to protect him-

The spirit stopped. He raised his head, looking about the nonphysical boundaries of the Ring.

Those were not his thoughts. Those were not his emotions. They were only barely his own memories. If they weren't his own, then they must come from some outside source, and he could rule out any of the other spirits of the Millennium Ring. None of them were capable of anything so coherent, so continuous.

Tentatively, the spirit prodded about his own mind, his own soul. He knew what he was searching for, but couldn't quite dare to believe he would actually find it.

There was one small thing he had done in order to exert some of his will over his host, a small toehold when it came to control. Years ago the spirit had performed his 'parasite mind' on his own host's soul. It was a way of making the bond between them stronger, as well as making it easier when the spirit did decide he wanted to take over his body, or to reach through him to the outside. Unlike inanimate objects, though, the parasite mind required an exchange of soul when performed on a living being. To implant his own soul into Ryou Bakura, he had to keep a piece of Ryou Bakura with him.

Ryou was still a part of him.

If that small piece of Ryou Bakura were still able to think, to have memory and feeling, then it meant that the one to whom it once belonged was still in existence.

Ryou Bakura was alive?

When Ryou finally came home, he felt much more apprehensive than he thought he would have.

He had spent so much time at the hospital, prodded about, questioned, scanned, sewn back together and everything else that he had wanted nothing more than to get away, to come home and have some peace. Now he was here, he wondered just how much it would ever seem like a home to him.

It seemed strange that less than twenty-four hours had passed since everything had happened. His new friends had come to see him, worried he hadn't come in to school on his second day, and offered to play Monster World with him. It was a sweet gesture, which Ryou, even at the best of times, wouldn't have dared to expect. That they cared enough after knowing him less than a day to go so out of their way was simultaneously touching and extremely odd to him.

What the little group didn't know was that it had taken nearly all of his will not to go into school that day, to just stay at home, away from anyone that might be hurt. The voice he heard inside his head, the voice that apparently came from the golden pendant his father had given him years ago, was a powerful one capable of possessing his body to go out and do terrible things. Ryou had dared not to go anywhere near the school, knowing that voice was lurking in the back of his mind, waiting for an opportunity.

He could remember what it had felt like, that voice in his brain pushing at his consciousness, pushing him towards blackness so it could take over. But Ryou had finally been aware and understood what was happening and pushed back. He'd resisted a second possession and remained in his apartment. It had felt like such a great victory, just keeping his mind his own.

And then Yugi and the others had come. Ryou's gratitude and his terror had nearly overwhelmed him when he saw them. It was enough of a distraction that the voice had rushed in under Ryou's defenses and taken over. In a moment, all his struggle had been rendered useless.

Back once again on the threshold of his front door, Ryou squeezed his eyes shut and did his best to not remember what it felt like to be invaded.

He took a shaky breath and looked around his apartment. It was empty, of course, but it showed all the signs of having hosted guests. After the game, and once it was certain that the voice was gone an ambulance had been called for Ryou. He had been rushed away to the hospital with Yugi and Anzu riding along with him, with Jonouchi and Honda returning to their own homes once they were out of sight. There had been no clean up of the Monster World board, all of the chairs were still out, still pushed to where they had been when everyone had stood up.

It was his apartment, as empty as it ever was, but it still looked as though there could be others there, just out of sight. Right now that was not the most comforting of thoughts.

Taking one more minute to prepare himself, Ryou stepped into his apartment.

Even in house slippers his footsteps echoed slightly. He walked from room to room, uncertain exactly what he was looking for, but unable to stop himself. He knew - was certain that besides the living room where the game had been that everything would be just the same as it had been two days ago. Nothing would be out of place, nothing would be changed… but he still had to check. Possibly he was just avoiding the scene awaiting him in the living room.

When he had no more rooms to delay him, he went in. It was like walking onto the scene of a crime long after all of those involved had left. In a way it was, but the victims had all escaped and the villain was far out of reach of any punishment.

Ryou stood and stared at it all a while before going near. All of the player character figurines were still clustered together on the board, the NPCs still tucked away in the village. Zorc's figure was in pieces, scattered over the table, and Ryou's box of figures lay open to one side.

There was more blood than Ryou remembered. He rubbed absentmindedly at the bandages around his left hand, looking at it all. Not just on the resin turret where the voice had slammed his left hand, spearing it completely through. His hand had bled freely and heavily, and it had spread everywhere. Looking at the mess, he doubted there would be much of this particular board he would be able to salvage.

All things considered, he didn't think he would mind so much.

Sighing, Ryou went to gather some cleaning supplies.

Ryou had been to doctors and even hospitals before, but this was his first major injury. Considering how little time and effort had gone to creating it, it had taken a very long time to repair the damage.

The doctors had been very careful in making certain the wound was clean and nothing foreign had been left inside - apparently not believing his word that the spire that caused the puncture was unbroken. Then, once a temporary bandage had been put in place to stop the bleeding, x-rays had been taken to be sure none of the long bones in his hand had been broken. It was something that hadn't even occurred to him until it had been brought up, but thankfully his bones were all whole. That done, the wound had been cleaned again and rewrapped properly, which included a brace to prevent him moving too much while he was healing. He may not have broken any bones, but they worried that he'd caused muscle damage. Limited mobility was meant to prevent any further strain or tearing. Then he'd been given a tetanus shot, a prescription for antibiotics and instructions to schedule a follow up with his regular doctor very soon. There had even been talk of physical therapy, but that would be up to his doctor to decide if he needed it.

And throughout all of this they kept asking him how he had been injured. At first Ryou had thought that the hospital staff just wasn't communicating well with each other - not a comforting idea in itself - but when he noticed that the same nurse had asked him three different times he realized that they didn't believe his story. It was false, but still as true as he could keep it while leaving out anything to do with evil spirits and possession.

He supposed he couldn't blame them for being a bit suspicious. He was underage, his parents were nowhere to be seen, and he'd come in with two other underage kids. And quite frankly, Yugi's personal style choices probably only made the situation look even more questionable. When Ryou had revealed five more punctures across his chest, the questioning only increased.

He'd been so glad to get away from the hospital, away from the people and the third degree questioning that he'd forgotten what would be waiting for him when he got home.

Emptiness. Silence. Blood. He almost wished he'd asked Yugi or Anzu to come back with him. He wasn't sure he would be able to handle the silence so well as he had before. Not when he might hear voices that weren't meant to be there.

Ryou cleaned as much of the blood as he could, carefully stored the figures, swept away the pieces of Zorc and the broken dice, then began pulling apart the board and deciding which parts were salvageable and which were not. Once the game was cleared away, he wiped down the table and put the chairs away.

It wasn't until he was getting ready to fold up the table that his foot tapped against something hidden underneath. Something which gave a metallic clink.

He froze. How had he forgotten that would still be here? In the rush to get medical attention he hadn't seen where the Ring had ended up, but it had to have stayed in the apartment. No one had left with it in their hands, and it was far too much to hope that it had been destroyed when the voice had been defeated.

Slowly, as though he were facing off against a viper instead of a lump of metal, Ryou took a step back and squatted down so he could see the thing that had taken over his mind.

The ring - the Millennium Ring - lay there, completely inert. Just as though it were completely harmless. The strap Ryou had used to hang it round his neck was snapped, the ends frayed. The Ring lay on the floor as though it had been tossed, with its five points splayed in every direction like broken limbs. Its eye stared up blindly at the underside of the gaming table.

The bandaged punctures in Ryou's chest ached with renewed vigor. A trembling began to steal over his limbs, his breathing coming a little too harshly. The emptiness of the apartment abruptly felt too close, smothering him.

He should have asked one of the others to come back with him, help him get rid of the Ring. Even if all they could provide was company, a supportive presence, he would have gladly taken it.

Before they had parted at the hospital, Yugi had given him his phone number, told Ryou to call him if he ever needed anything, even if it was just to talk. Should he call Yugi now? He would have just gotten back home himself, and it was so late that soon it would be early… Was it fair to call Yugi back to his apartment so soon? It was something of an emergency, but…

But was it really an emergency? Ryou had owned the Ring a little over six years now, and knew what it was supposed to look like. He was familiar enough with the Ring to know when something about it was off. Something was off now. Even under the table, light was shining on it, but the Ring itself wasn't shining. The Ring always seemed to shine before, even when it was in shadow, but now it only gave a very dull gleam, as though it were covered in a layer of dirt.

It was almost as though it were absorbing the light that fell across it, drinking it greedily rather than reflecting anything back.

Ryou watched it a while longer without moving, but nothing changed. He took a pen out of his pocket and carefully prodded the Ring, like he expected it to leap up at him.

Nothing happened, save it gave a sad clink. To Ryou's ear even that sounded dull, not as musical as it had once been. The Ring gave no sign of life.

Ryou took a deep breath. It shook slightly, in time with the trembling stealing over his whole body.

He couldn't remember what had happened after he had… died. But the others had filled in those few missing minutes, the key time when the spirit possessing his body had been defeated and expelled. They hadn't said as much, but it sounded as though that other spirit had been destroyed. Was that the case, and now the Ring was an empty pendant, just as he had always thought it was? It had certainly lost something; a sort of otherworldliness he had taken for granted until it was no longer present.

Very slowly, Ryou reached out and touched the broken strap with his fingers.

Nothing happened.

Ryou exhaled. He felt lightheaded, dizzy, but he was fine. There was no one in his head but himself.

Winding the broken strap carefully around his fingers so as to avoid touching any of the actual metal, he lifted the Ring off the floor. It felt heavier than it ever had before, and even as the light slid across its surface, the metal seemed dull and lifeless. The five wicked points swung erratically as Ryou lifted it up, clattering together noisily.

It seemed so… ordinary now. It was a strange thought. Even if it hadn't been harboring an evil ancient spirit, the Millennium Ring never would have been 'ordinary.' It had always been at the least a curiosity, this strange piece of jewelry from Egypt. It wasn't like anything else he had ever seen, either ancient or modern, and given his father's profession and habit of sending gifts home, Ryou had seen more than a few examples of what was the norm. Beyond the design was the fact that it seemed to be made completely of gold. That might not be so strange, save for its size and how cheaply it had been sold to his father.

His Ring had always been strange, but he had grown used to it. To him the Ring had felt ordinary, normal. Now it felt as though some special strangeness had been sucked out of it.

In all of six years, had the Ring ever… 'communicated' with him? The spirit within, he had no doubt, was the one who had really been responsible for the comas all those years ago, the true source of the 'Kagome Epidemic.' But had it ever reached out to him, to make contact or possess him before a few days ago? It seemed impossible that it hadn't at least tried.

His hand strayed to the front of his shirt, the tips of his fingers seeking out those places where he had been pierced. It was difficult, thinking back so far, seeking out memories of things which he hadn't even been aware of happening, but…

The pain at his chest, it was familiar. The voice, when it had spoken to him, had sounded familiar to him as well. In fact it seemed like the longer he stared at the Ring, making his thoughts stay with it - in the past - the more familiar everything felt. He even thought he could feel other memories, much older than any of his own could be rising to the surface. They tiny impression he got for them were tangled and confusing, the snippets fitting in nowhere in his life.

A particular smell. Darkness that moved on its own. Flickering light glinting off of bronze. A pair of violet eyes, a black mouth. An old man's face. A paintbrush and a broken bit of pottery.

Ryou shuddered. Just how much had he been affected by the Ring and the spirit over the years without ever knowing it? How much of his life had the spirit known about?

A sick feeling settled in Ryou's stomach and he pushed those considerations away. The spirit was gone now, and all that was left was to figure out what he should do with the Ring. He wasn't sure he could keep it close to him anymore, but he was having trouble imagining doing anything else with it. He could sell it, he supposed, but if he was uncertain of how safe it was to keep, then how could he give it to someone, anyone, who would be completely unaware of the danger? The same problem presented with the option of sending it to his father at the Domino Museum, with the added issue of having to find some way of explaining why he wanted to get rid of it to his father.

He lowered the Ring, still thinking, but unable to come up with anything viable. There was the option of just getting rid of it somehow - in the garbage, thrown into the sea or suchlike - but his mind rebelled at the idea for some reason. For it to be completely lost and forgotten, the idea of that made him feel sick all over again.

Once again he wondered if he ought to call Yugi. He had a Millennium item as well, perhaps he would have some insight on what could be done with the Ring? And if Yugi didn't have any ideas, then maybe the spirit in his Puzzle would. It seemed reasonable to assume that a spirit that resided in a Millennium item would have some idea of what to do with another one, of how to keep the spirit inside under control. One of them would surely have some idea of what he should do.

For that matter, Yugi's experience of owning a Millennium item which housed a spirit was exactly the same as Ryou's, save that his spirit seemed considerably nicer. The urge to go to the phone and call him came back stronger than ever. Of all the people in the entire world, Yugi was probably the only one who had any real idea of his experience, of what it had felt like, of the fears and anxieties which were even still just beginning to tighten their grip on him. If he ever wanted to talk about what he had been through, then Yugi was the one to turn to.

On the other hand, his spirit seemed so much nobler. Yugi knew of the other residing inside his Puzzle, had made friends with him. They had worked together in order to defeat the spirit of the Ring. Yugi might know what it was like to harbor a second spirit, but would he be able to really relate to Ryou's experience?

He'd had a whole other person inside his head and now had four friends who had seen him at his worst and not run. Was he still alone even after all that?

The eye of the Ring stared up at him, waiting to see what he would do. The eye so much like the one on Yugi's Puzzle.

Where had the Millennium items come from, anyway, and how old were they? Ryou had been left with a vague sort of impression that they were very, very old indeed. Why had they been made, how had spirits gotten trapped inside them, and who were they?

For a brief moment his father returned to his thoughts, but only briefly. It had been his father who found the Ring and sent it to him, but beyond which stall he had found and purchased it from, he wasn't likely to know anything more. If he had thought it at all important, having any sort of historical significance, then he wouldn't have sent it to his son as a birthday present. His father would be no help here. In fact, Ryou intended to never tell him about any of what had occurred with the Ring. Even if he believed Ryou were serious and that he hadn't gone insane, what was there he could possibly do? In fact rather than showing any sort of caution, he would want to study the Ring to learn its secrets.

If anyone were in any sort of position to learn about the Ring, then it would be Ryou. He probably already knew the most out of anyone what there was to know about the Ring, plus he knew the risks of interacting with it too closely. He knew them firsthand, and wasn't likely to forget any time soon.

He would keep the Ring, he decided. It was the only thing which made sense. He wanted - he needed to know more about the item which had nearly taken him over completely, the spirit which had been a part of his life, subtly affecting it for so long. As tempting as the thought was, even if he got rid of the Ring he wouldn't be able to forget about it, would forever be trying to puzzle out its mysteries, and the only clues he had were the Ring itself and Yugi's Puzzle. He had to keep the Ring and see if Yugi would let him study the Puzzle on occasion. He was understandably attached to it and the spirit within, but surely he would allow it? Surely Yugi was just as curious about his Millennium item as Ryou was.

He would keep the Ring, he would find more clues to what these items were, who the spirits within were, and how all of this had happened. The need to know ate away at him, overpowering even the fear and foreboding he held for the Ring. Who knew what they could learn from the Millennium items, what secrets they might hold, how the whole world might change in wake of that learning?

What if there were more items?

Ryou's heart froze at the possibility even while his skin tingled all over with excitement. What if there were more items, more spirits? What would that mean?

He shook off the thought. He needed rest, sleep. It had been a long couple of days, and un-possessed or not, he wasn't thinking very clearly anymore. Ryou rose to his feet and turned to his bedroom. The rest of the mess, everything in fact, could wait until morning. He was too tired to care anymore.

He was too tired even to notice he still held the broken strap wound in his fingers, the Ring accompanying him to sleep and dreams.

Ryou Bakura was alive.

Relief infused the spirit's being, his anger melting in the wake of the realization. He had very carefully felt along the bond, searching for the shapes of his host's thoughts, his emotions, those clues he had become so very familiar with over the years. The spirit turned his own thoughts around, molding them as closely as he was able to match those of his host, knowing that the closer they were in that way, the easier it would be to find those which were purely Ryou Bakura.

Wary hope and pessimistic expectations become disbelieving shock when he found, on the other end of that bond, something which flickered and moved. Signs of life, not just an afterimage, an echo of what had been there before. No, Ryou Bakura was still there, still alive, though distant. He wasn't wearing the Ring, or even in contact with it, but he was there.

Ryou Bakura was still alive.

For a moment, relief overwhelmed the spirit. The dim future which had become all he could see with no host to call his own lightened once again. Not all was lost. There was still a chance.

His relief did not stop him wondering, however, how it was his host had survived. He had watched and felt as Ryou's soul, possessing his doppelganger dice, had willingly destroyed himself along with the dice. Ryou's soul had been shattered. Once the spirit had been expelled from his host's body, it would be nothing more than an empty shell. Ryou Bakura had been dead, he knew he had. How had he defied death?

There had to have been some sort of interference from his gaggle of new friends, the one with the Millennium Puzzle in particular. The power of his item seemed enough to rival his own, it was perhaps enough to pull the shards of Ryou's soul back together and give him life again. But even with that kind of help, it was only help.

If Ryou was alive again, it would be most due to the strength of his host. Defying death was a thing which came down to the strength of the one who battled it.

The spirit had much to think on about his host - and of how he was meant to utilize him to his own ends, now. He had been taken by surprise by the defiance his host had shown during the game of Monster World, just how much control the boy had been able to wrest from him. It had been enough first to inconvenience him and then to completely derail his plans. Ryou Bakura was unexpectedly strong and clever, tenacious even. And then, somehow, he had even defied death.

The spirit smiled. The boy was more like him then he had previously thought.

Which presented a problem. Several, in fact.

In the past he had been able to affect change through his host, to occasionally possess him as he slept, and to even subtly affect his thoughts. With the added power that contact with the Puzzle had brought, he had been able to directly communicate with his host, to force sleep and possession, to bury the consciousness of his host deep down, cutting him off from his own body, and to utilize more of the magic inherent in the Ring than ever before. And yet despite all of that, Ryou had still found the strength of will to defy it all. He'd wriggled free, putting cracks in the spirit's plans until it had all come apart. He was much stronger than the spirit had ever suspected, and that was a problem.

He was also now aware that his Millennium Ring housed an ancient spirit that desired little more than destruction. Ryou was a boy who harbored more anger and resentment in his heart than he ever allowed to show, but he was not naturally destructive or malicious. Even if that were the case, the spirit had attempted to harm his friends, and that would make it so Ryou would be on guard against him. It would be significantly more difficult now to take control of his host, if he even allowed the Millennium Ring near him again.

The spirit considered his options - how he had handled his host in the past and how that would have to change in the future if he wanted to maintain any control at all.

In the past he had maintained as little direct contact with his host as possible, deliberately hiding his presence from the boy, suppressing memories of the dreams he had on a nightly basis which relived a life in Egypt. Doing so had somewhat weakened the bond, but kept his host ignorant and unwitting. With the advantage of ignorance lost, then there was no point in maintaining such a blind.

He would allow the dreams to be remembered, for everything to be remembered, from the very first day he had put on the Ring. Those memories were still there, merely repressed by the spirit's influence. He would allow them to flow back where they belonged. A stronger bond was what was needed now. He would not attempt another direct attack on the boy's consciousness, at least not yet. No, he would have to be subtler than that, slowly undermine the boy's senses until he was no longer so resistant to him.

Yes, he would use the bond between himself and his host to his advantage. If he pulled Ryou Bakura closer to himself, poured more and more of himself into the boy and blurred the lines… there might lie his solution. Ryou would be bound closer and closer to him, and his very perceptions would become a mirror of his own. As time passed there would be less need for manipulation, for direct conflict with his host, as his way of seeing and interpreting would become like that of the spirit's.

It would never be complete. Even at the closest the link of the Millennium Ring could bring them, Ryou would still be his own person, have his own core identity. But it would make things easier. It was a chance to continue on with his plans. He would take it.

The spirit waited, paying close attention to the link. He knew when his host approached, came close, but did not touch the Ring.

Slowly and gently, the spirit removed some of the barriers he had maintained between them for so long. He dared not release them all at once, or his host would be overwhelmed. Ryou was aware he existed, but the last thing he wanted now was for him to be aware of any influence, or even of any presence in the Ring.

When Ryou found the Ring, the spirit felt it. He drew himself, his presence in as far as he possibly could, making the Ring appear as ordinary and inert as possible. At the same time he continued the slow dribble of influence over the link - the memories, the self of the spirit to go into Ryou Bakura.

It was a nerve wracking time as he sensed the boy making a decision, contemplating the Ring and what he would do with it. The spirit did risk something a little more, then, something so small the boy wouldn't suspect any sort of outside source. Without direct contact between him and the Ring and the link as shaky as it was now it had to be a small thing, but with luck it would be enough. He just had to encourage the idea that to keep the Ring was better than not.

Curiosity.

It was a simple drive, but one he knew his host already had an abundance of, and which would influence a decision rather than commanding one.

He waited as his fate was decided, literally held in the hands of a child. When he felt the decision be made over the link, the spirit weakened for the second time from pure relief. Ryou Bakura would keep the Ring, and spirit's plans weren't all in ruins.

As Ryou turned himself to bed, keeping the Ring close to him even now, the spirit exalted.

The influence seemed to be working already. Ryou Bakura was still his, and he was far from defeated.

A/N2: I've often wondered what the thought process was behind Ryou actually keeping the Ring after what happened with the tabletop game. It was fun to theorize about that here.

For those especially fond of the scenes set in the past with Bakhura, the next chapter is nothing but that. For those who liked seeing Ryou and the spirit of the Ring (who I call Bakura for the sake of telling them apart) finally interact, the chapter after that will have plenty of it, including dialogue that doesn't come straight from the manga.

Thanks for sticking with me, everyone!

(There's a fairly significant announcement on my Bio page. Please take a moment to give it a look. Thank you.)