Author's Note: Sometimes, I have the urge to explain things in these author's notes. Such as: Oh, I'm going to be using honorifics, but only for spoken dialogue. Or: Yami Bakura's words are in italics when he's not visibly in the space, but only audible in Ryou's head. But then I'm like: Naw, they're smart cookies; they'll figure it out.

Thank you to everyone who has engaged with this story! It's truly been a wonderful experience to interact with you!


A thrum of energy filled the air as Bakura declared the game's beginning. Ryou's heart fluttered in his chest. This time he wasn't locked away while the important things happened around him. This time he was a participant.

"Oh, one more thing. I only have limited knowledge of the Items themselves," Bakura waved a dismissive hand. "I'm sure someone like the Ishtars would know a lot more. You can go first, Yadonushi."

Hmm. Ryou tapped a finger to his lips. Too many questions swam through his head; pulling out a first one was difficult. Best to start simple. He was talking to a ghost, after all.

"How did you die?" The skeletal hand pinched a red cat's eye marble between two finger bones and *plink* dropped it into Ryou's brass bowl. It stuck to the bottom like it was magnetized.

Bakura snorted. "Going straight for the throat, I see." He dug up a small pebble from the dirt and placed it in front of him. "My memory from that time is a bit spotty, but as far as I can recall…" He balanced another pebble on top of the first. "In those days, we would project parts of our souls to fight our battles. Ka, we called them. They took the forms of various humanoid or animal-like figures." A third pebble joined the first two. The tiny tower wobbled. "Since they were a literal part of our soul if they died…" Bakura flicked the pebble structure, and the little rocks scattered. "So did we." He leaned back on his hands. "I don't remember the moment of my death, but I know that my Ka died. I would have died soon after if nothing decided to speed along the process. Oh, I died fighting the Pharaoh and his posse. That's probably closer to what you were asking."

The hand dropped a blue marble into Bakura's bowl. *Plunk* Ryou tucked the information about Ka away for later. "I'm sorry."

Bakura started to gather up pebbles again. He laughed softly. "It's not your fault, quite the opposite, really."

Ryou scrunched his nose. "What does that mean?" *Plink* He slapped a hand over his mouth. Bugger!

Bakura stilled, his hand hovering over his tiny rock pile. He let out a breath and then answered. "That you were not responsible for my death, landlord."

"Oh, that makes sense." *Plunk* "What do you want from me?" *Plink* A third red marble joined the first two in his bowl.

Bakura listed off his answers on his fingers. "I want you to complete the diorama. I want your help in general and for you to stay close to me. *Plunk* What I don't want is for you to get in my way." Bakura met Ryou's red eyes. "Because if I have to choose between your well-being and the goal I've been working towards for three thousand years, well, it's not much of a choice then, is it."

Ryou hummed. "What is your ultimate goal?" *Plink*

Bakura's hand clawed into the soft dirt. "To destroy the Pharaoh," he growled, "Completely, utterly, and in every way imaginable." *Plunk*

Ryou nodded; that was about what he'd thought. He searched his mind for another question, but the space that had been buzzing with activity before appeared empty. He knew he had more questions. Ryou thought back to earlier in the day, to a phone buzzing on a coffee table. "How do you feel about Marik Ishtar?" he asked. *Plink*

Bakura looked up and blinked. "What?" he hissed, then pointed at their arbiter. "Clarifying question! That was a clarifying question." The skeletal hand gave him a thumbs up.

"Oh, um." Ryou thought for a second. "It's just that he texts you all the time, and you message him back. Didn't he give the Millennium Rod to the Pharaoh? I would think you'd still hate him, considering you've held a grudge for thousands of years."

"That is vengeance, and it is mine by right." At that moment, Ryou wished he hadn't wasted his fifth question.

"Can I take a question back?" Ryou asked the arbiter. The hand formed a fist and moved it from side to side. Dammit.

"Unfortunately not," Bakura added. He placed a couple more pebbles on the growing pile. Finally, he said, "I didn't appreciate when he betrayed me after everything I did to get him his body back."

"Tried to do," Ryou corrected. "You lost."

"I am aware of that." They both looked over at the skeletal hand; it hadn't moved. Bakura closed his eyes. He let out a slow breath and relaxed his posture. He opened his eyes again. "At any given moment, most of what I feel towards Marik is annoyance, but occasionally he says something interesting enough to make talking to him worth it. He also has an adequate taste in memes." The hand *plunked* a fifth blue marble in Bakura's brass bowl. "I assume we're finished with the idle gossip portion of this questionnaire."

Ryou nodded, feeling his cheeks heat up. He hadn't meant anything by it; he was just curious because… well, the reason why didn't matter.

Ryou looked up at Bakura. "Are you going to ask your questions? Only," Ryou shook his head. "I don't really have any secrets worth knowing."

Bakura braced an arm on his leg and leaned forward, studying Ryou. "You know, most people keep secrets from others. You," Bakura pointed a finger at Ryou. "You keep secrets from yourself.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ryou asked.

Bakura smirked. "I'm afraid that you have used up all your questions. As you said, I do believe it is my turn. The first question is simple. What is your ren?"

*Plunk*

Silence prevailed in the graveyard. A fog wound its way through his thoughts, and Ryou rubbed at his arm. "My name? I-I don't understand." Ryou rested a hand on the ground. He began to trail a finger through the dirt, forming a shape resembling a foot. "You already know my name." Next came a stork, then a vulture…

"I do," Bakura tilted his head. "But I want to see if you know it." Belly and tail, quail chick, and then two on top of each other: mouth and arm. Ryou's hand stilled. He couldn't make sense of what he was looking at. A feeling of bone-deep wrongness overtook him.

"I don't want to tell you," Ryou whispered.

Bakura chuckled. "The damage is long done. I can't force you to answer, but, well…" He gestured to the candle; it flickered. "You are on a time limit." He paused for a second. "If you don't know, you can just say so. Technically, you shouldn't know, but then again, you've always been an odd one."

Ryou stared at what he now recognized as Egyptian hieroglyphs. "Bakhura." The skeletal hand dropped a blue marble into his bowl. *Plink* He dashed a hand into the dirt, ruining the images.

Bakura hummed and tapped his chin. "So you do have it. Process of elimination dictated that you must. I'm just surprised that you remember it."

"I don't know what you're talking about. It was just," Ryou waved a hand, "there. When you asked." He pulled his legs to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and holding tight. He concentrated on his breathing—in and out—until he began to feel less… muddled. He rested his cheek on his knee. "You did that on purpose."

"I don't know what you mean." Liar. Even in a game about truth, he was such a liar.

"It's a thing you do. Where you push me off balance and then do whatever you want while I'm still reeling. I don't know what to do about it. I don't know if there's anything I can do."

"What do you want, Ryou?" *Plunk*

Ryou looked up at Bakura, who was staring at him with an intensity that the boy didn't understand. "Friends." It was what he had initially wished for, after all.

Bakura waved a hand. "Too vague; try again." True enough, the arbiter hadn't moved.

Ryou lifted his head. "People who will be there when I need them. I don't see—"

"Technically true, still not quite right. Come on, you know this one." Bakura braced an arm under his chin. Ryou glared at him.

"You're patronizing me."

"You're wasting time."

"We have plenty left."

"The goal, Yadonushi, is not to use it up."

"Fine." Ryou crossed his arms. "What I want is someone who won't leave me. But everyone does eventually." He stared down into the dirt. "Even if they don't choose to." Loss curled around his heart; he pushed through it. *Plink* Five red and two blue marbles sat in Ryou's bowl. "Are you happy now?"

Bakura hummed. "Are you?" *Plunk*

Ryou's hands clenched. "No. No, I'm not." *Plink* "Is this fun for you?"

"There's a certain amount of satisfaction involved." Bakura dragged a finger through the dirt, disrupting the little pebble pile. "You trap me in my living nightmare; I shatter the protective illusions you surround yourself with. Tit for tat and all that."

So this was how the spirit got his revenge. Bakura was right when he said it was a waste of time for them to fight, but Ryou wasn't feeling generous enough to admit it out loud. He sighed. "Get on with it, then."

"Gladly." The spirit tapped his chin. "You asked about Marik earlier. Why bring him up? Our business with him has long concluded." *Plunk*

"There wasn't—" Ryou tried to answer, then stopped. "I'm not sure—"

Bakura narrowed his eyes. "You can feel it, can't you; you're toeing the line. The game will stop you from lying unless you really push through."

Indignation crept into the pit of Ryou's stomach. He had noticed; he didn't need it explained to him. Ryou place a hand over his eyes, as if that would protect him from the truth that he didn't want to acknowledge. Well, he might as well start with the facts.

"Marik Ishtar tried to kill Yugi-kun and the Pharaoh. He mind-controlled Jonouchi-kun and Mazaki-san and would have killed them too. And this was him, not his evil alter ego. He had an international crime ring!" Ryou tapped at the ground. "Then he has a change of heart in the middle of a duel, and suddenly everything is fine. His evil alter is gone forever, and everything bad he's ever done is forgiven. He gets to go home and live happily with his family. Problem solved and another villain vanquished."

Ryou tangled his fingers in the cord of the Millennium Ring, feeling the texture. He tried to start again but had to stop and reword things to fit within the rules of the game. "I want to be happy for him. I know that he had a bloody awful growing up. But," He took a shaky breath. "I feel so selfish for even saying this, but no one remembers what he did to me. What you both did to me. He mind controlled me too—you let him control me—and no one even noticed. No one ever notices. You barely try to act like me, and no one is more than mildly suspicious. It's like it's a game to you to see how out of character you can act before people confront you. It probably is a game to you."

Ryou pressed a palm to his forehead. "Marik went along with your, frankly idiotic, plan to… what? Get me hospitalized? Again? Because that's what happened! Not to mention the disastrous end to your duel against the Pharaoh, where I could have died for the second time this year!" Ryou's throat tightened. "And yet, everyone loves him! Even you seem to enjoy his company for whatever reason. He never even apologized to me; I doubt he even thought of it. The one time he tried to talk to me after the tournament was to ask about you! Do you know what that feels like? To not even be seen by someone who hurt you!"

Tears stung at the corner of Ryou's eyes. It wasn't fair; there had to be a limit to how many times a person could cry in one day. "So I asked because I don't understand. I don't understand Marik, and I don't understand you. Maybe I never will. Maybe understanding people is just not something I can do." *Plink*

Liquid slipped down Ryou's cheeks. His face burned with embarrassment. He wished he could take off the Ring and throw it to the ground, but he didn't dare try in the middle of a Shadow Game. He dropped the hand over his eyes and looked up at Bakura.

"I hate you," Ryou stated, and it was true.

A smile crept onto Bakura's face, and his blood-tinted eyes glinted in the candle's light. "Oh, I know, landlord." He leaned forward. "But the thing is…" The spirit's hand shot across the neutral ground between them, grasping Ryou's chin. The mirrored Millennium Ring hung down, tines mixing with the candle's flame. Bakura lifted Ryou's face, capturing his wet gaze. "However you feel about me pales in comparison to how you feel about yourself." Bakura's other hand pressed against Ryou's heart, drawing out a small squirming figure. He released Ryou, holding up the visual representation of one of Ryou's emotions. The inky black snake coiled in Bakura's palm and lifted its small head. Ryou's heart thudded in his chest as he stared into milky white eyes. He knew what the next question was going to be. "What is the emotion you won't name?" *Plunk*

Ryou closed his eyes tight. If he didn't accept it then it didn't exist. He shook his head, tangling his hands in his hair. "No, I can't—" His breath left him, and he couldn't finish the statement. Ryou's fingers dug into his scalp. He didn't have a choice.. "Self-loathing. I-It's… The technical term is self-loathing." A final blue marble fell into Ryou's bowl. *Plink* He opened his eyes to see Bakura's self-satisfied smirk.

"Very good, Yadonushi. Now, was that really so difficult?"

"Fuck you." Ryou wrapped his arms around himself. It didn't help.

"You see—"

"I don't need you to explain my own emotions to me. I hate the way that I am and how others treat me because of it. I get it; I know." Ryou's voice was quiet, resigned, empty. He was done with this.

A cool feeling of calm weaved its way through Ryou, numbing him to the raging storm inside. He looked out over the graveyard's stone wall, out to the undulating sea of black. He wondered what separated here from there. If there was really any separation at all. Was this just another illusion? The solid ground beneath him a phantasm to give his human mind context. Ryou scooped up a palmful of sediment mixed with tiny rocks. Could he swim in it? Could he drown?

A giggle escaped from between Ryou's lips, growing into a full-blown laugh. And didn't it just feel good to finally let something out. This situation was so ridiculous; it was unreal.

Bakura looked at him with… something. Ryou had lost interest in trying to puzzle it out. He fell onto his back, white strands of hair mixing with the earth. He would have expected the sky to be empty, but there were sporadic blinking lights in various colours. He scrunched his nose.

"Why are there stars in the Shadow Realm?"

"Those aren't stars; they're more like the lures of angler fish. Following their trajectory leads to death." Bakura hesitated. "Landlord, the game is over. I think we should—"

"I want to play another round," Ryou stated. He lifted a hand toward the angler stars.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Ryou hummed. The lures in the sky twinkled. "I don't care what you think. Honestly, Bakura, you pushed me too far today. Twice! And before that, you pushed my body too far. Such miscalculations aren't like you. Oh, wait! They are! The Monster World RPG, your duel with the Pharaoh in the Battle City tournament, your duel against Marik's other self, and, apparently, your battle with the Pharaoh and his court three thousand years ago. Everything you do ends in failure."

Bakura remained silent for a few seconds and then answered, "You're dissociating, Ryou."

"I don't care. We're going have another round; you owe me that much."

"I really don't think…" Bakura paused, then started again. "If you insist, but I won't be held accountable for whatever happens. Five more questions."

Ryou let his hand drop, pressing it to the eye at the centre of the Millennium Ring. He heard their arbiter replace the marbles into the leather bag. He began.

"Bakura, what are you?" *Plink*


To be continued...

(Information about Bakura's name is taken from the article "Why Thief King Bakura's Name Is Actually... Bakhura" by Alyss Erulisse on Tumblr)