Author's Note: This chapter is a bit early, but I'm going on a trip this week, and I don't think that I can wait three more days to post this. I'm too excited! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. :)

Thanks to everyone who read! It means so much for people to interact with this silly little thing I've written.

"This is a fantastic way to get more sick."

Ryou ignored the petulant voice in his mind and pulled his dark coat tighter around himself. He had stuffed the Millennium Ring into one of the coat's interior pockets. All the spirit could do right now was talk to him, an ability he seemed determined to exercise.

"All I'm saying is—"

"Shut up," Ryou hissed and continued weaving between the rows of warehouses.

The wharf district was a short tube ride from his block of flats. He had rarely been to this area of Domino City; it wasn't the type of place one should hang around if they didn't want their wallet nicked. Nevertheless, he seemed to be getting on fine and had yet to notice any shady characters. Besides the obvious, of course.

Ryou's foot caught on something he'd missed in the dimming light of the evening, and he stumbled, barely catching himself before he tumbled onto the ground. Ryou took a second to lean against a metal warehouse wall and catch his breath. He had been winded pretty much from the beginning of his little excursion, his body protesting the extended use in its current condition. He was still trembling minutely, though if that was from exhaustion or something else, he didn't know.

Ryou leaned his head against the cool metal. Yeah, his fever had definitely returned, and he could feel a chill from the air settling in his lungs—problems for later. After a second of simply breathing, Ryou pushed himself back up. The image of the spirit appeared in front of him, ghastly and floating.

"Whatever you're trying to do, it won't work."

"Bugger off," Ryou gritted out. He walked through the image, and it dissipated like mist in the wind.

After another couple minutes of travel, the pier appeared before him, and he felt a flood of relief. Ryou approached the end of a dock, fishing the Ring out of his pocket by the cord. He was careful not to touch the metal itself. It probably would have been advantageous to wear gloves. Oh well, nothing to it now.

Ryou held the Ring out in front of him; it glowed faintly in the low light. Or maybe that was just his imagination. The spirit appeared to his left, breaking the quiet.

"You can't get rid of the Millennium Ring by throwing it away. That's not how it works."

Ryou watched the eye of the Ring sway slightly in the breeze. He felt the urge to giggle and didn't know why—probably not a great sign.

"Yadonushi?" A pause. "Ryou?" Ryou finally turned to look at the spirit and titled his head.

"Why do you think I don't know how the Ring works?" Ryou's voice was empty of life and emotion. "I am its wielder, after all, not you. You're dead." Ryou looked back at the Ring, tracing its shape in the air in front of it with his free hand. "No, if I throw the Ring into the sea, it will return to me. But in the intervening few hours, I will be completely free of its influence. Your influence. And during that time, you will be completely unable to interact with the world. You see, Bakura, I can trap you too."

Before his brain could process the action, Ryou drew his arm back and threw the Ring as far as he could. It wasn't very far, but it didn't have to be. He watched the magical artefact sink beneath the waves and felt nothing.

"Enjoy time out," Ryou said as the spirit vanished. He turned on his heel and walked away, coat swaying gently in the breeze.

Ryou dissolved into a coughing fit as soon as he stepped into his flat—definitely a bad sign. Ryou toed off his trainers and kicked them out of sight. His muscles ached, and his headache had returned in full force. He rifled through the cupboards until he found the one with the painkillers. He grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator and downed the appropriate amount of pills to combat his headache and fever. Ryou stuffed a piece of bread into his face to fight his growing hunger. That would have to be enough; he definitely wasn't up to cooking at the moment.

Ryou shivered and swayed on his feet; he reached the sofa before his legs gave out. He took off his coat and draped it over the coffee table. He'd have to put it away later. Ryou freed his hair from the confines of the hair tie and felt it settle down his back. He threw the hair tie at the telly for good measure.

Ryou pulled his legs to his chest and leaned over, plopping onto his side. Reconsidering his previous action, he pulled the coat over himself like a blanket. It wasn't a perfect solution to the chill that pervaded him, but it was better than nothing.

Curled up in a foetal position, Ryou pressed a hand to his chest. It felt hollow, like there would be an echo if he tapped his sternum. He dug his fingers in, but the physical sensation did nothing to combat the emptiness; it just hurt more. Ryou knew from his experience losing his Millennium Item in the Battle City tournament that the feeling would get worse the longer he was without the Ring. How the Ring managed to intertwine itself so completely with his soul, he didn't know, but it felt like his spirit was bleeding without it, like a chunk had been torn out, and there was nothing he could do to stem the flowing tide.

He wondered if a similar sensation had driven Yugi to endure a building burning down around him to save his Millennium Puzzle. Probably not; he was sure Yugi needed nothing more than his love for the Pharaoh to propel him to action. Yugi was like that; he was good and brave and everything that Ryou wasn't. And he had pretty eyes. Ryou frowned; it seemed his old crush wasn't as dead as he thought. Oh well, it's not like it mattered. Anyone could see how much Yugi and his other self cared for each other.

Their bond was nothing like Ryou's own relationship with his spirit, who was mean and awful and bad. And who, most of the time, was the only thing keeping Ryou from being completely alone. Who had held him and comforted him as he cried, even if he had ulterior motives. Fuck. He was going to be so pissed when he got back.

So why did Ryou want him to return? Why did Ryou miss the steady presence at the back of his mind? He didn't forgive the spirit for what he had done, but a growing part of him wanted to overlook it, pretend it hadn't happened. And didn't that make him awful. That he would trade the safety and well-being of those around him for his own emotional needs because the spirit wouldn't stop. He wouldn't change, and Ryou wasn't delusional enough to think he could. The spirit would keep doing as he pleased, and Ryou would be left to pick up the pieces. But he wouldn't be alone; Ryou didn't think he could take that again, didn't think he could survive it.

Another round of coughing interrupted his thoughts, and Ryou decided that was more than enough thinking for one evening. He pulled his coat up over his head to block out the world around him and concentrated on the feeling of cushions underneath him. With a relieving lack of difficulty, Ryou fell asleep.

Something in the air shifted. Ryou shot awake, grasping for the glinting metal on the coffee table before he was fully conscious of his actions. The coat slid off and fell to the floor with barely any notice. He slipped the leather cord over his head and let the Millennium Ring settle against his chest. Back where it belonged.

A sharp pain invaded his senses as a hand tangled in his long white hair and pulled Ryou up to meet the spirit's faintly glowing eyes. "That was very clever, Yadonushi," Bakura hissed. "But you forgot one important detail. One might even call it one of the fundamental laws of the universe."

"Equal and opposite reaction," Ryou whispered, trying to keep a whimper out of his voice. Bakura smiled; it wasn't a nice smile.

"Exactly." Bakura release Ryou for a second. He plopped down on the sofa and pulled Ryou down on top of him, Ryou's back to his chest, and barred an arm across his abdomen to keep him still. "I want you to know," murmured the voice next to Ryou's ear, "that if you weren't important to me, you would be dead for that." Bakura's other hand found the five small scars hidden beneath the tines of the Ring. "If you ever try anything like that again…" Ryou gasped as Bakura's fingers jabbed into his stomach. "Well, I'm sure you get the picture."

Ryou swallowed and nodded. He'd known that the trick with the Ring's return could only be used once, not that he'd ever planned on exploiting that particular mechanism in the first place. The spirit hated being confined to his soul room and having been thrown in there himself once or twice, Ryou couldn't blame him. That place felt like drowning in tar. But he had wanted to hurt the spirit, and based on Bakura's reaction, he had succeeded—fancy that.

Bakura's fingers curled around a lock of Ryou's white hair and yanked. Ryou hissed in pain and surprise. "No drifting off now, landlord." Bakura pulled him tighter to his chest and rested his chin on Ryou's shoulder. "We're going to play a little game, you and I. Nothing dangerous. I don't want to hurt you." A lie and a blatant one; it didn't bode well. "You see, it's a waste of time for us to fight each other. We're on the same side, after all." Debatable. Ryou was more interested in guaranteeing the safety of his friends than the spirit's vendetta. "So I propose a trade of sorts: information for your continued cooperation. That is what you want, isn't it? Information about the Millennium Items, about me, about what happened three thousand years ago." Bakura rested his hand on the Millennium Ring. It warmed under his touch. "I can't tell you everything, but I can certainly tell you enough to sate your curiosity. How about it, Ryou?"

Ryou's breath had stopped in his throat. It was a trap; Ryou knew that. But the spirit had baited his trap with what Ryou wanted from the very beginning, and how was he meant to resist that? Ryou wanted to know, needed to know, with a desperation that unnerved him. Why had the Ring chosen him? What was it all for? His hands gripped the cloth of his jeans. Why would the spirit offer this to him now? It was an obvious trap.

"Why should I believe anything you say?" Ryou whispered. Bakura chuckled; it reverberated throughout Ryou's body.

"That's what the game is for, Yadonushi. It's very simple, just a game of questions and answers. One that requires honesty. I can explain the rules in detail once we begin." Bakura trailed his fingers through the tines of Ryou's Ring. "Will you play with me, Ryou?"

Ryou closed his eyes. This was a very bad idea.

"Yes."

Light pulsed as the Millennium Ring illuminated the room.

Ryou opened his eyes to a graveyard at midnight. A sort of graveyard anyway, the kind with no gravestones, just the feeling of bodies under the earth. A dry stone wall, like the kind he had seen in old churchyards in England, encircled a small area of turned-up dirt where Ryou now sat. Past the garden wall, shapes of unknown substance and composition roiled in a sea of black. A rather large part of Ryou wanted to stick his hand into it, just to see what it felt like.

Movement caught Ryou's eyes as the spirit sat down opposite him. "Welcome, my honoured host, to the Shadow Realm. You've been here before, but I'd be surprised if you remembered." Shadows coiled in Bakura's hand, forming the shape of a candle. He placed the candle between the two of them and pinched the wick. A cool blue flame sprouted.

"What's that for?" Ryou asked.

"It can be difficult to keep track of time here. This is how long you have until you start feeling the negative effects of this place."

Ryou studied the candle. "That seems long. Didn't Yugi-kun start feeling drained shortly after the beginning of his duel with Pegasus?"

Bakura smirked. "You're much more suited to this place, Yadonushi."

Oh. That was good. Or bad. One of the two. Ryou tried to feel out for any weird sensations, but this place had the same vibes as any other graveyard he'd visited.

Ryou startled as a skeletal hand erupted from the dirt to his right. It rooted around in the sediment surrounding it, pulling up two brass bowls and a small leather bag. It placed one bowl next to Ryou and one next to the spirit. It set the bag between the two bowls, then gave Bakura a boney thumbs up. Bakura pulled two cat's eye marbles out of the leather bag, one red and one blue.

"This game is as simple as they come," he began. "It doesn't even really have a name. It's meant to guarantee an honest exchange of information between two untrusting parties. I didn't make it up, but I did tweak the rules to make it less of a waste of time." Bakura held out the two marbles for Ryou to see and pointed to each in turn. "Pay attention, now. Five questions apiece. Red tracks questions, blue tracks answers." He dropped the two marbles into his bowl. They didn't bounce. "Marble in the bowl means that whatever question or answer you just provided counts toward the total. Any question you ask counts unless otherwise specified. You are allowed one clarifying question per question asked." Ryou listened with rapt attention.

"The game starts when I, as the initiator, say so, but both people must be aware that it is starting. After each participant asks and answers five questions, the game can end. Or if both participants agree, there can be another round. Lying on an answer results in immediate elimination from the game and an overall loss. I don't have to tell you that one does not want to lose a Shadow Game." Bakura put the two marbles back in the bag. "Our skeletal friend here acts as an arbiter. He decides when a question has a satisfactory answer, so no half-assing it." The hand waved; Ryou waved back. "Any questions?"

Ryou scratched at his chin. "The game hasn't started yet."

"No."

"Why all the rules?"

Bakura huffed. "Believe me, this game gets very stupid very quickly without them."

Ryou nodded. He traced around the outside circle of the Ring. "This game seems like it would be useful for interrogation." Bakura raised an eyebrow, and Ryou flushed slightly. "I-I mean, if you could either anticipate or direct the other person's questions. Or if you could, uh, guarantee they couldn't talk afterwards." Ryou's fingers tapped the warm metal, and he mumbled, "Then it wouldn't matter what you said."

Bakura rested his chin in his palm. "Jumping straight to murder, Yadonushi. I'm impressed."

Ryou shook his head and pushed down thoughts of why they were there in the first place. "It's just a hypothetical. There's no win condition?"

"Not officially. Either you're eliminated, or the game ends." Bakura tapped his cheek. He caught Ryou's eyes. "But I think you just identified a few unofficial ones. I'm surprised. You're good at this."

Ryou looked away. "It's a game. I'm good at games; they make sense." His hand stilled. "What I don't understand is what you plan to gain from this."

"Like I said: your cooperation. This is what you want, answers to your questions. I'll admit, I'm also curious to see how you fare in a Shadow Game. Any last questions?"

Ryou hesitated. There were still tricks to this game that he didn't understand yet, but he could figure them out as they went. He shook his head. "I'm ready."

"If you're sure, then." Bakura tilted his head and smirked. "Game start."

AN: Thanks again for reading! Review if the fancy strikes you; otherwise, I just appreciate your time.

Next time on "A Day in the Life of Ryou Bakura": Emotional turmoil and, maybe, some resolution.