A/N: I was intending to give myself a late Christmas/birthday present by getting this and a chapter to another story posted before the end of 2017. Then I got sick, so that didn't happen.

THERE IS AN ADDED TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER! The first portion of this chapter includes animal violence which, while not gory, could still be difficult to read. For this reason, the rating of the fic is going up to an 'M.' If you'd like to skip violence, then hit 'ctrl' and 'f' ('command' and 'f' on a Mac) and search for (+). After that, the rest of the chapter picks up with only vague references back to the scene before. If you'd like to skip the scene itself but get an idea of what happened, I'll include a very dry summary in the post chapter author's note. Take care of yourselves, everyone.

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, violence and death/near death.

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

Haunted

Part XIII

Raven Ehtar

Bakhura trembles, and attempts to block out the sound coming from the next room. It's difficult, and not entirely effective. The particular quality of these screams is just at the perfect pitch and shrillness to slice through every one of his nerves. It's fair, it's what the screams are meant to do.

This is the first time he has attempted what he about to do, and the nervousness of getting it wrong in some way is almost as intense as the trembling of reluctance stealing over his limbs. He has read of ceremonies similar to this one, and with a little creativity it wasn't hard to design an all new ceremony using the old as a template. It should work. He hopes it will work. He would hate for all of this to have been for nothing.

Moving with deliberate slowness, resisting the urge to hurry through the ritual in order to silence the noise, and ignoring the second urge to drop everything, cut the bonds of his captive and flee back into the light himself, he goes about the final motions of preparation.

His thoughts skitter away from his actions even as his body is forced to remain, and he finds himself thinking of Iumeri. The old man is growing worse as the years go on and on before him. He is no longer able to sit so long in the hot sun, plying his trade to passersby, nor to keep such careful track of his thoughts. It must be of particular frustration, Bakhura thinks, to have a wandering mind when before it was one accustomed to orderly lists. But such is the state of the elderly, disgraced scribe, and all Bakhura can do is watch as he falls further and further into senility.

The one thing that seems to bring the old man peace is the very thing to which he dedicated his life and which Bakhura secretly thinks assisted in baking his brains. Writing. The fevers come upon him more frequently, now, where he is possessed with the need to write out every detail of every bit of history that he knows. Bakhura has come to appreciate and to dread the fevers. On one hand they prove that Iumeri's mind is still his own, and he has lost none of his vast knowledge or his personal passions to the ravages of time. On the other hand, the violence of his fevers are growing, sending him into such states of agitation and activity that he is left useless as a limp rag for days or weeks after they pass. Several times Bakhura has wondered if this would be the fit that finally exhausted him beyond recovery, or possibly the next, and Iumeri would slip away to the afterlife, leaving him alone once again.

One of his fevers had just broken when Bakhura rose out. He left the old man limp and exhausted, reasonably certain that he would both survive his recovery, and yet be too tired to get into any mischief while he is gone. It's a small consolation that Iumeri does not know where he has gone or what he is doing. He is certain that the old man would not approve of his actions, would be upset if he knew, and might be thrown into a new kind of fit.

He murmurs words in the dim light, words he stole from books and made his own. He washes the blade again and again in a basin of water as he speaks aloud in the darkness. The knife is also stolen, and one of his best acts of thievery. Priests are not given to relinquishing their ceremonial daggers, and to sneak into a chamber where such tools are kept takes more than the disguise of an apprentice. No, he had snuck within the walls of their temple, completely undetected and with the help of the little god - Diabound.

Diabound. The name of his ka, the god that rests in his soul, who comes to the fore when danger threatens him. Finally, they had grown in strength enough to make communication possible, and at long last they both have names.

The handle of the knife is smooth against Bakhura's palm, polished by the countless hands of High Priests as they gripped it, offering up the gift of life to their chosen Gods. Now it is he who holds it, who is to sacrifice to his chosen God as His only worshipper and High Priest by default.

Another tremor runs through him, his stomach clenches. Taking a steadying breath, he grips the knife tighter, concentrates on the words his mouth must form, and tries to ignore the cries, which have become piteous mewls.

- What? -

He has planned for this moment for some time. He has gathered all of the necessary tools, memorized the words, found a perfect place and the… proper sacrifice… and he is determined not to be dissuaded now. Not even by his own misgivings.

Bakhura has known compulsion in his young life. In the years he has walked the land, he has known driving need and want, destitution and the pain of not having what is needed to survive. The drive to live on, and to do what is needed in order to live on is an old friend of his, familiar if not necessarily welcome. He knows the impulse to lash out, to cause pain and havoc for its own sake or simply to strike a balance with how he feels within himself. This is different.

Since discovering the God Zorc Necrophades in the buried temple at Kul Elna, he has often felt the presence of Him riding along in his mind. He does not hear His voice, or feel him in the same way he had while sitting in the pressing darkness of the temple, surrounded by the spirits of Kul Elna, but He is there. Bakhura can sense Him, listening to his thoughts, looking out through his eyes… And he can sometimes feel it when his God wishes something.

This is something that He wants. He had told Bakhura that no sacrifice was needed in order to open the door to His power, but this is not for that. Zorc does not require a sacrifice for the acquisition of His power, He simply desires it for Himself. And His desire has passed on to Bakhura, the want of a God, pressing on him until he can no longer resist.

A fine sweat has broken across his skin, though the air around him is cool. He shrugs it away. He has come so far, what is the point of stepping now?

He goes over the steps in his mind. They are simple enough. The most complex of them he has already done. He must remember, though, not to burn the body. To burn the body of the sacrifice would carry it up to the Heavens. This sacrifice is not for those Gods. He must dispose of it in another way, bury it or leave it out for the jackals in the desert.

Swallowing hard, wishing his stomach to stillness, Bakhura turns away from the cleansing basin and walks towards the source of the small cries and whimpers of distress.

The place he has chosen is old and abandoned. Once it had been a place of worship, but for some reason now is empty. He does not know which God it was that was worshipped here, not does he care. It does not matter. Even if the God has remained longer than Their worshippers, he will still steal Their space for a time.

In the center of this room there is a table. The table is too large for his needs, but that's fine. All around the table he has placed lamps and candles, lighting his work in the otherwise pitch blackness. It is very late, now, and there is no light save the glow of dancing flames. The light is enough to see by. Enough to see the feebly struggling figure he has tied to the table with many pieces of rope and twine.

A normal sacrifice to a God would be that of a goat or a bull. Sometimes smaller gifts are also given, many of them bloodless. Bakhura has even heard of some priests giving their Gods the blood of human. But Zorc is no ordinary God, and no ordinary sacrifice will be enough for Him. To Him the great pantheon is but a great collection of annoyances and enemies, Beings to be conquered and consumed.

The sacrifice He would most wish for would be that of a God.

Or a piece of a God.

When it sees him come into the room, the cat renews its howls. In the dim light the eyes gleam, the teeth flash and there is the wet shimmer of the open mouth. The low throated howls echo and bounce weirdly about the room, creating dozens of felines in terror out of shadows.

- No… -

Bakhura turns his face away, the grip upon the knife tightening to the point of pain.

Even more dangerous than his theft of the ritual knife, or of the books explaining the magic that goes into such a ritual, was the theft of his sacrifice.

There are many cats throughout the land, the great majority of which would go unnoticed if they went missing. Cats are as revered as they are useful, and even the poorest citizens could be said to 'own' a cat. They are excellent hunters, and do much to reduce the population of common pests such as mice and rats, and even some deadly ones such as scorpions. Cats are everywhere, easy to find and easy to take unnoticed.

Yet it was not just any common cat that would do for this ceremony. The ritual needed a piece of a God to be the sacrifice, and for that would require a representative of a God. There were many who took the form of animals. None were quite so revered and easy to transport as a cat, who is an avatar of the Goddess Bastet. Any cat could be said to be Her avatar, but Bakhura needs to be certain of the connection between avatar and Goddess.

The cat now bound to his table is a petite, sleek animal, well fed and pampered. It is a cat that has known no hardship save that of a meal served late. He stole this cat from a temple of Bastet, where the creatures are allowed to roam freely. This particular one had been blessed by the priests, made a vessel of their Goddess, and treated as Her personal pet, or even She Herself should She decide to visit Her worshippers. It was as close to a God as he was ever likely to get on his table.

And he had stolen it. Stolen the cat and bound it here. The cat has never known unkindness or cruelty before, and is as angry as it is frightened.

It is a suitable sacrifice, the feeding of one God to another, and in a way an even more powerful gift than had he stolen one of the priests to bind to his table. And yet it ought to be easier to carry out than the killing of a human. It is just a cat, after all, an animal incapable of begging for its life with words. It should be easier.

One of Bakhura's knuckles snaps as his grip continues to tighten. It's nearly done. He only has a little longer to endure.

- No. No no no. -

He takes a deep breath, and begins the second part of the prayer of sacrifice. It's a prayer he has learned through his reading and heard once in practice. He knows the proper rhythms and cadences, and any place where the words do not quite suit the situation he changes as he needs. The result is a rougher prayer than what he heard the High Priest speak over his sacrifice, but it still works. Like a hand in his gut clenching into a fist, he can feel the heka taking hold. If only he can steady the tremble in his voice.

He suspects that his intention builds the heka more than his words. The words are important, but not so much as the intention he imbues them with as he speaks, and his intention -

- horrible intention. Stop, you don't have to do this -

He walks towards the center of the room, towards his makeshift altar and its captive, the dagger raised before him like a shield. It does not stop him hearing the feline howls, whose volume has redoubled as his own volume increases, building towards a crescendo.

- Bakhura! -

The echoes of the yowling and of chanting spawns even more cats out the darkness, more Bakhuras reciting the prayer of offering. Will the duplication increase the power of his offering?

- God, why can't I just wake up? -

He stands before the altar, before his sacrifice. As though sensing what it about to happen, it struggles against its bonds, its yowling becoming desperate and wild. It is no use, though. He has secured the cat too well, and it only does damage to itself as it thrashes.

- Bakhura, please, you don't want to do this. -

The knife rises up in the darkness, handle slick in his grip. He comes to the final words of the prayer, shouting them into the shadows and -

- Don't! -

- stops.

His hand is frozen in the air, his shoulder locked in place. Trembling, on the very edge of bringing down the blade, he looks down on the animal. His vision is blurred, but there is no mistaking the knowing terror in the cat's eye. Can a mere animal know what is about to befall it? Can he coldly bring down the blade on a creature that sees its own end?

- It's alright. You don't have to. -

Zorc requires no sacrifice. There is no reason for any of this save the satiation of an appetite. Is that reason enough to take a life, even a small one?

- Just… just let it go. Please. -

Long moments pass, frozen in that tableau. His arms raised, holding the dagger; the cat below him struggling feebly, still crying out in terror and pain. Within him, Bakhura can feel the built up heka writhe impatiently, awaiting its final release. Balanced on the precipice, his mind races so quickly it's almost peaceful.

Then, his grip on the dagger grows tight again, every muscle in his body becomes taut and his mind sharpens with renewed force.

- Wait, no! -

There is no question in what he does. Zorc is the key to the retribution of Kul Elna, his and their only path to justice. Zorc is the way, and if He is the key, then it is only right that he should sacrifice in His name.

- Bakhura, please! -

It is right that a hero spill a little blood in the name of his cause.

- Bakhura! -

His hands tremble only a little, his vision still blurred -

- Stop! Stop! -

- a red, wet, glistening mouth opened wide to yowl -

- Please! -

- a flash of metal in the dark -

- the unholy screams of dozens of cats -

- No! -

Ryou woke to oppressive darkness, his heart hammering in his chest, panting like a sprinter at the end of a track -

And vomited.

(+) It wasn't very difficult, once classes were over for the day, to find a little time to himself before going home.

Once the final bell rang, Ryou quickly gathered up his books and supplies and left before the usual gang clustered up before heading home. He doubted that anyone would really notice that he wasn't there. Any group that included Jonouchi and Honda was guaranteed to get loud, and Ryou was naturally quiet and reserved. Unless some sort of miracle happened and those two happened to be calm today, no one would take much more than a passing note of his absence. It wasn't something that got much remarked on any other time when he wasn't a part of the group.

Trotting at an easy peace, Ryou moved through the crowd of students all heading the same way as he was. He wasn't fighting the whole school out the doors, thankfully. There was a good percentage of the student body who remained to take part in clubs or after school committees. Those who were leaving as soon as they were able were those who had commitments to neither. So it was a rather mixed crowd Ryou walking through, made up mostly of two types: the slackers and delinquents, and the quiet shut-ins.

Of the two, Ryou supposed that he fell into the second category. He didn't properly count as a shut-in any more, not with the friends he now had and just how often he would leave his apartment when it wasn't strictly required that he do so. But he had managed to avoid joining any committees, despite the strong encouragement of classmates to become a part of the student council, and had never gotten around to joining any clubs. It might have been wiser to join a club, even a small one, just so he would have that extra bit of connection and involvement with his peers, but he just hadn't been able to find the motivation to do so. Now it was too late to join any clubs, and Ryou found that he was not sad for the missed opportunity.

The crowd around him all moved towards the gate of the school in a flowing tide of humanity. Moving so as to draw as little attention as possible, Ryou broke away from the current and ducked around the side of the school building. His bag bounced against his side heavily as he walked, its unusual contents making it so the strap almost cut into his shoulder.

Technically he wasn't meant to be in this area. Technically no students were, as it was where the bins for garbage, recycling and the school's incinerator were all to be found, as well as some storage sheds. That didn't stop a good majority of the school still using it as a shortcut from the front of the school to the back. It was also sometimes used by the cliques of roughs as a hangout spot to cut periods and smoke. None were using the area at the moment, which was a bit of a relief. It would make what he had come to do easier. Oddly enough, he wasn't worried about running into any of the roughs in the sense of his own safety. He had a feeling he could handle himself if something happened.

He went along until he came to the storage sheds used by the athletic clubs. Inside would be all of the balls, bats, rackets, hurdles, nets, and who knew what all else, shelved and boxed carefully for students. Ryou had no interest in the contents of the shed, and walked around to the back. It was a little narrow, set close as it was to the wall encircling all of the school grounds, and was an area ignored even by the most determined of delinquents. Once he was sure he was out of the line of sight to anyone, Ryou slowed his pace.

He scanned the ground carefully, running his eye along where the shed met the earth. Soon he came to a spot where the ground dipped down, leaving a gap to the underside of the shed. The newer outbuildings of Domino High didn't have proper foundations, but were instead readymade boxes set and secured at the corners. The little gap, Ryou knew from past investigations, led to a small space beneath the shed. A small pocket of air hidden away from all of the students and faculty who walked by every day.

Ryou sat down close to but not directly in front of the gap. Moving slowly and quietly, he opened his bag and dug out the extra items he had packed that morning.

Before long, there were four small bowls set out around him, two full of water and two with meat in a sauce. Beside Ryou lay an empty water bottle and two empty cans of wet cat food. He backed away a little further from the gap, around which he had arranged all of the bowls, and clicked his tongue, calling out.

It took a little time and a few more tries at calling, but eventually Ryou's patience was rewarded with a small noise, and then a small furry face emerging into the light. He kept still as first one, and then more cats came out from the little den beneath the shed. The first was the largest by far, a long haired calico of mostly orange and black with wary eyes. Behind her trailed a small band of what he assumed was her litter. There were three of them. One was another long hair, orange with brown patches on his head and the base of his tail, the smallest was gray with a white chest and only a nubbin for a tail, and the last and largest was short haired and solid gray so dark it was almost black.

They all trooped out, the kittens following their mother closely, nosing around curiously but remaining behind her protective bulk. The mother, who Ryou had begun thinking of as Yua, watched him narrowly as she approached the food bowls. As Ryou never moved, never reached out for her or her kittens, it wasn't long before she was eating, her litter quickly joining in.

Ryou smiled, listening with satisfaction to the sounds of four mouths working hard at the food he had brought. He'd noticed some time ago that there was at least one cat that hung around the school on a daily basis. Whether anyone else had taken particular note he didn't know, but he'd watched her whenever he spotted her. It had almost been an accident the day he had seen where she liked to hole up on campus.

He didn't think she could have always been a stray. Yua was wary around people, but she had allowed Ryou to stroke and pet her a little in the past. She was more guarded with the litter of kittens, but still not completely averse to human contact, or of humans being near her and her brood.

She was better about humans being near than the strays that like to hang around his apartment building. Those were all extremely people shy, and he had yet to coax a single one near enough for a scratch behind the ears. For them, all he could do was refill their bowls and hope that they were alright.

As for Yua and her kittens… He'd toyed with the idea of taking one or all of them home with him if he could calm them to his hand enough to get them into a carrier - and sneak a carrier onto school grounds. But he wasn't sure he wanted four cats all banging around his apartment, or that the landlord would allow four. He might allow one, and then the rest… maybe he could find homes for them. Probably the kittens, as they would have the best luck at being adopted. Though Yua was so pretty, she would probably be taken in quickly if he asked around. It would be a chore, finding homes for so many cats, but it would be better than them remaining on the streets.

One of the kittens, the medium orange and brown, finished eating and, after a look at his mother, trotted over to Ryou and rubbed at his hands. Ryou smiled and petted the furry little head. For some reason, out of the four of them the orange kitten was the friendliest. He was the first of the kittens to come close to him, immediately after he saw his mother do so. As Ryou rubbed around the fuzzy triangles of ears he began to purr, a ridiculously loud buzz for such a small cat. If it ever came down to a matter of choosing, then Ryou knew he would probably take the orange boy. He was too sweet, and melted his heart every time he came near for attention.

"Well, that's a surprise."

Five heads all jerked around at the sound of the voice as Ryou and every cat looked. The gray kitten actually ran halfway back to the gap before stopping, while, to Ryou's surprise, the rest remained fairly calm.

What surprised him more was the sight of Yugi standing at the 'threshold' of the space between the shed and the wall. He stood, thumbs looped under the straps of his backpack, a bemused kind of smile on his face as he looked over the scene of Ryou and the four cats.

"Yugi! What are you doing here?"

The smile went a little crooked at the question. "Finding out what you're doing here," he replied. He nodded back towards the main building of the school. "I saw you from the window, and wondered what was so interesting."

"Oh."

Yugi shifted a little from foot to foot, casting a glance over his shoulder like he was nervous. "Would it be okay if I, ah, came in?"

Ryou froze for a second, taken off guard by the question. It seemed rather formal for just asking if he could squeeze in behind the sports equipment shed. "Ah… yes. Just move slowly. They still scare pretty easily."

Yugi nodded and followed the instructions, moving slow, watching to see how the cats were reacting to his presence, stopping whenever it seemed they needed an extra minute to adjust to him. When he was just beside Ryou he stopped and sank down to the ground with him. The cats handled the appearance of a second, unknown person well. Only the gray had retreated back to the den, and was already peeking back out curiously. The little orange never left Ryou, though his purrs stopped for a minute. They were already picking back up again.

They sat in silence for a while as Yua and her kittens settled and resumed eating and drinking. Ryou cast a curious glance at Yugi, but he was just watching the cats, a little smile on his face. It was definitely the 'normal' Yugi, he thought, looking at the Puzzle hanging round his neck. There was none of the sharpness of the other Yugi about him just now, none of the dangerousness he had come to recognize as the spirit contained within the Millennium item. Ryou was glad it was just Yugi he sat with. It was easier.

After a while Yugi spoke, his voice low and soft for the sake of the cats. "I just wanted to see what it was you were up to, you know? You left class so fast and all…"

Ryou frowned, realizing that Yugi was repeating himself. When he looked back at him again, he had an embarrassed expression on his face, his eyes half lowered, teeth digging into his lower lip. It was a strange way for Yugi to act around him. It was almost nervous, and Yugi had never been nervous around him before, never had a reason to…

And then he remembered. Things were different now.

"Oh." Ryou did his best to sound off hand, collected as he replied. "Well, you know. I wanted to get down here before anyone else. If people saw me, they might come back here like you did, and a lot of people would scare the cats."

Yugi nodded at his explanation, accepting it without any further questions, but there was still a line between his brows, a cloudiness to his eyes that told Ryou that he still had reservations.

Ryou wanted to clear that expression, to do away with the doubts he saw lurking behind Yugi's eyes. He wanted to have Yugi look at him and see only a friend, his expression free of doubt or worry. But he could think of nothing he could do which would work such magic. All the things he could think of to say would only make things worse. All he could do for now was wait and hope.

Because Yugi knew now. He knew that Koe wasn't gone, that he still resided in the Millennium Ring, and that Ryou had not only kept the Ring, but worn it again. He still didn't know how long ago Ryou had decided to put it back on, nor that he wore it every day under his shirt, but… he knew.

It had taken a little while for the memories to come to him, it being one of those times when Koe had taken over his body completely. Yugi had gone missing during the opening of the Black Crown game shop, a store belonging to the family of a new classmate, Ryuji Otogi. The whole of their group minus Honda had gone to the opening, and all of them had noticed the loss of their smallest member, but the employees had been unhelpful to say the least. They'd had to leave without Yugi, just hoping they had missed him leaving and that he would turn up again. Ryou had left with everyone else, uneasiness twisting his insides.

Apparently his disturbed state had been enough to alert Koe that something was wrong, and he'd stepped into Ryou's body. What happened next had taken a couple of days to remember, and was still a little fuzzy in places. Yugi had explained a lot of it to them later, so Ryou thought he had a pretty good picture, but… there were still gaps.

There had been some sort of feud between Mr. Otogi, Ryuji's father, and Yugi's grandfather years ago. Ryou still wasn't certain what it was, exactly, but it was enough to have Mr. Otogi seeking revenge, even using his own son in pursuit of it. His plan was to have Ryuji take the Millennium Puzzle from his enemy's grandson and somehow use the Puzzle against him. He knew something of the power held within the artifact, it seemed, though Ryou seriously doubted he had any idea of the extent of those powers.

Koe knew the man was clueless, and a fool. He had returned to the Black Crown after it closed, forced his way past the remaining employees, and found Yugi, Ryuji and Mr. Otogi in a back room, playing a new kind of game with the Millennium Puzzle as a prizing. Koe had been angry at the scene laid out before him. Yugi sat across from a smug Ryuji, his gloating father standing at his shoulder, and the Millennium Puzzle, once again in pieces between them. The anger that anyone would be so presumptuous had run through him like hot lead. Even so long after the event, it was frightening to remember the heat of that rage.

Tempering that anger, though, was the unshakable conviction that Yugi would come away from it all fine, with his Puzzle in hand. It surprised Ryou when he found that conviction, felt it for himself secondhand and knew that it came from Koe. He wouldn't have thought that Koe, of all people, was capable of putting such faith in one of Ryou's friends. Yet he did. There was no mistaking the feeling and no hiding it, not from Ryou.

He had stayed there, standing at Yugi's side as he fought Ryuji, acting as his advocate and supporter. No matter how dark and unpromising it had looked for Yugi, Koe had remained stalwart, never once swaying in his belief, and never once allowing Yugi to doubt himself. Looking at it as he did from the outside, long after it was all done, Ryou couldn't help but draw the comparison between Koe and the spirit of the Puzzle. It was almost as though when Yugi lost the presence of one, the other had stepped in to take up the role, never permitting him to falter.

Yugi had won against Ryuji, of course, despite the odds stacked against him. Just as with the rage and the conviction, Ryou could still feel the swell of pride as though it had been him standing there. So proud of the young man, the holder of the Millennium Puzzle.

After that was where Koe's memories became a little hazy to Ryou. There was the great feeling of pride and… something else Ryou couldn't quite identify. He helped Yugi to gather up the pieces of the Millennium Puzzle, his mind a bit of a cloud, whatever he had been thinking only coming to Ryou in tiny pieces. Something about remaining near Yugi, watching over him, and the memories of a king.

It was only a couple of minutes between Yugi winning the game and Koe's memories cutting off, picking up again when Ryou 'woke up' in the dim back room, disorientated and confused. Only a couple of minutes. Not much in which anything could have happened.

Ryou still worried.

Ryou couldn't blame Yugi for looking troubled when he looked at him. Despite what Koe had said to him, that he had changed and was now Yugi's friend, and despite how he had stood by his side as an ally, he was still the one who had nearly stripped Yugi and all of his friends of their souls. It was only natural that he be wary. It was the smart thing to do. After all, Ryou shared headspace with the spirit and still couldn't be certain of him.

It was probably just as well that Yugi still didn't know some things about the spirit, about the Ring. About him. He didn't know how long ago Ryou had put the Ring back on, or what he had done while Koe had been in control. He didn't know about Pegasus, or the Eye. He didn't know that Ryou still wore the Ring even now, hidden beneath shirt and jacket.

Guilt crawled up Ryou's spine, making his shoulders hitch up higher. He wanted Yugi to trust him, to have no reason to distrust him, yet he hid so many things from him. Important things. And when given the opportunity to stand beside him as a friend himself, perhaps absolve himself a little of his repeated betrayals, he had failed. When the time came to prove that he was a better friend than the traitor he considered himself, he'd dropped the ball.

Ryou tilted his head, glancing at Yugi as inconspicuously as he could manage. He still had a couple of bandages on his face, a band aid or two and one square patch on one cheek. His hands were still pink and sensitive looking, and just visible beneath the leather collar he liked to wear, Ryou could still make out the edge of lightening bruises around Yugi's throat.

Battle scars from what had come after the game. Ryou's guilt spread across Yugi's body.

Koe had left after standing in support of Yugi, perhaps giving him just the boost he needed in order to see the game through to the end. He had left, and Ryou had returned to himself in time to see Mr. Otogi, deranged with his wrath denied him, attack his friend. The old man had taken hold of the chain round Yugi's neck and choked him with it before dragging him away to another room, locking the door behind them. It was there where, somehow, a fire had broken out. A fire which had consuming the entire building before being extinguished, and nearly killing Mr. Otogi, Yugi, and Jonouchi, who had stayed with Yugi when he refused to leave without the Puzzle.

Yugi had gone to the hospital for his burns, the smoke inhalation and the damage done to his throat by the chain. He had only been released in the last few days to return to school.

And Ryou hadn't done anything in order to prevent it.

Koe had stood by Yugi's side, but when the time came for Ryou to do the same, what had he done? Nothing.

Useless.

He wondered if Yugi ever felt like this, like a second fiddle to the spirit sharing his body, superfluous in his own body. He wanted to ask, to talk about the shared experience of playing host to long dead ghosts, but realized that there was no good way to ask that sort of question. Apart from everything else, it would mean admitting that he didn't think his own spirit was all bad. It was the truth, but he didn't think he could stand the scrutiny, the inevitable questions that would follow. He wasn't even sure he could explain it to himself, let alone anyone else. Let alone Yugi.

He already dreaded Yugi deciding to ask him why he had decided to put the Ring back on, why he hadn't told anyone he had. Answering that question would either mean a good number of uncomfortable revelations or straight up lies. Ryou wasn't ready for either.

The silence went on, uncomfortable to begin with and only stretching on into truly unbearable territory. The only consolation was how the orange kitten climbed into Ryou's lap, settled down and purred like a bandsaw. After a while and many careful sniffs, the short tailed one came up to Yugi, who stroked him carefully and slowly. Even Yua stepped close enough for an ear scratch, with her final kitten pressing close at her side, opposite of the looming human he kept a constant watch on.

Yugi shifted, and Ryou tensed more than any of the strays arranged around them. But rather than any of the dreaded questions he had been expecting, Yugi came out with, "They're really friendly for strays."

Surprised but pleased, Ryou nodded. "They are. I think the mother must have been abandoned recently, and her attitude towards people has rubbed off on the kittens."

Yugi nodded his agreement. "That makes sense. …You know, if someone like Karita comes along and finds them, he won't let them stay. He'll just get rid of them."

Ryou scowled, knowing that Yugi was right. Damned Karita, why couldn't he just…? But he wasn't the only danger, however poor Ryou's opinion of him was. There were other teachers who would agree with the tyrannical PE teacher, and plenty of students who just wouldn't care or who would take a perverse pleasure in seeing the cat family ejected from this small haven. They wouldn't be able to stay much longer without getting caught anyway. He said as much to Yugi, who listened without comment.

"It wouldn't be right to let such friendly animals live on the street," he went on. "They're not exactly feral, and they seem healthy and pest free. I don't think I could stand the thought of them getting picked up by the Department of Health and Hygiene."

"What do you plan on doing, then?"

He shrugged, stroking the sleeping kitten in his lap thoughtfully. "I think… I think I could take one in, maybe two. And the rest… I don't know. I could ask around, quietly, and see if there's anyone else whose could take one? There's only a few of them. Surely there's that many people in a whole school willing and able to keep a cat."

Yugi looked thoughtful, his own hand absentmindedly caressing the little bundle of fluff beside him. It seemed that cats acted well as a cognitive aid.

"Honda likes animals," he said eventually. "But he already has a dog, so I don't know if he can take another pet. I think Anzu likes cats, so we can ask her. I don't think Jonouchi cares for cats all that much, but maybe his sister when she gets out of the hospital? She'll be recovering, so she might like a pet."

Ryou felt his heart lighten as Yugi went on, naming potential homes for the strays. He hadn't realized how heavily it had been weighing on him until a solution was offered. He smiled at Yugi, and in his relieved state, decided to tease. "What, no kitten for you, Yugi? I thought you would have snatched one up right away."

Yugi grinned, a little self-consciously, which told Ryou he hadn't been entirely off the mark. "I don't know if my Grandpa would be happy about a cat at the shop. Or my mom."

"Oh, I don't know. A cat could give the shop a touch of mystery and attract more customers."

Yugi laughed softly, and Ryou grinned even wider. It felt good to make Yugi laugh. It made him feel like they were normal students, normal friends. It was nice.

He looked down on the orange body in his lap, the furry little side rising and falling steadily as he slept. If you come with me, Ryou decided, I'll name you Ren.

A small sound came from behind him. When he looked he saw Yugi holding one of the empty cans, reading the label. His eyebrows went up, nearly meeting his hairline. "Wow. This is really fancy food, Bakura. Not what you'd expect to see fed to strays."

Ryou tensed. He knew Yugi didn't mean what it sounded like, but he couldn't help hearing the slur. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, holding back the first retort that leapt to his tongue. He took a breath, trying to settle down. "There's no reason not to give them nice food. It's not like they don't deserve it."

He looked at Yugi again. By the way Yugi's eyes widened he knew his face had darkened in a scowl.

"It's not their fault that they're strays."

Yugi's face showed surprise, bewilderment, but Ryou didn't care all of a sudden. Old memories were trying to come up behind his eyes. Memories that were thousands of years old, memories that had set him to feeding every stray he could find. An apology which had come too late, if any apology could be enough for what had happened in those memories.

Shifting the kitten from his lap as gently as possible, he gathered up the bowls and put them back in his bag. When he stood up, the cats hardly stirred. He didn't look at Yugi again, didn't want to see the renewed expression of concern on his face.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Yugi," he said, and fled.

He was fleeing more than Yugi. He was trying to flee from the resurgence of memories he had been trying to avoid, to atone for. He was trying to flee the looks and the uncertainty in Yugi's eyes and the guilt he felt whenever he was around him. He was trying to flee the feeling that sat in the pit of his stomach, that rose whenever he thought things just might be getting better.

He wouldn't be able to escape it, none of it. Not when the source was being carried within him.

A/N2: Okay, for everyone who skipped the first portion but what to know what happened plot wise, here's a dry summary. Bakhura, since coming into contact with Zorc, is feeling an odd kind of pressure to sacrifice to him, though he knows it's not really required. He decides to sacrifice a cat to Zorc, but a cat which is dedicated to Bastet, making it, technically, a small 'piece' of Bastet, and so a like sacrificing a god to Zorc. Whether this is actually how that works is left ambiguous. While Bakhura is going through the motions, we hear Ryou trying to convince Bakhura to stop, and right towards the end it seems like it actually works. Expect it doesn't, the sacrifice happens, and Ryou wakes up and immediately pukes.

Cats: It was illegal to harm or kill cats, at least during certain periods in ancient Egypt, whether wild or tame, let alone those belonging to temples. Doing so could lead to death sentences, even for those who were a part of the supposedly big, scary Roman armies. As an interesting side note, it was also illegal to export cats, leading to cat smuggling and the occasional army sent out to rescue the kidnapped felines. I really want to read or watch something centered around cat piracy and the brave soldiers sent to save them. The world needs more historical cat films.

Heka: 'Magic.' This is also the name of the God of, appropriately, magic. I found a reference somewhere that said that heka was seen as a chaotic force, and therefore an evil force in the mindset of the ancient Egyptians, but I haven't been able to find much confirming that.

Yua: A name meaning love and affection.

Ren: A name meaning lotus or love, depending on the kanji used.

Ryuji Otogi / Black Crown: For those who have only seen the anime, this is Duke Devlin. As with a lot of subplots, this one was a lot different in the manga, with a lot more background in it. This particular one was a lot creepier and higher stakes than what made it to screen. The high points were all mentioned in this chapter.

Department of Health and Hygiene: I live in the US, so the information I can get is probably questionable at best when it comes to the accuracy and specifics of this organization, but from what I can gather this department is pretty strict about the stray animals they find running loose.

Honda's dog: Yes, actually, Honda (Tristan) owns a dog, and we actually get to see him! He's a German Shepherd named Blankey (wow) and he makes another appearance in the Yu-Gi-Oh! videogame 'The Sacred Cards.' (Yes, I know I'm sad.)

Yugi's mom: He has one. In the manga she actually shows up a couple of times, but still pretty rare.

Kittens: There's a reference to another anime here. Ten points to anyone who catches it.

Thanks for reading everyone, see you next time!

(Now I'm going to go pet my cats…)