Good evening, my lords, ladies, and gentlemen. This chapter is historic, in the simple sense that it is the first chapter I've written in my new apartment. LONG story short, living with my roommates just didn't work out, and I've since moved into my own place.

I also recently got hold of a new keyboard, and while this isn't the first thing I've written using it (I always view the first thing I write with a new keyboard as something akin to a Christening), it is the first piece of fanfiction that I've completed.

Now, then. Let us continue this journey, shall we?

Verse One.

When the young woman with white hair entered the room where he was staying, Ryou Bakura's first aching, stupid thought was that his mother had come back from the dead to sit with him. Then he thought that that was stupid; it could only be his sister. But it wasn't Amane either, and for a long time he stared at her like he might eventually figure out who she was via osmosis.

Eventually, the young woman broke the ice. She stood in the doorway and offered a polite little wave. "Hello," she said. "I'm Kay. Kay Mayer. You're Ryou Bakura, yes?"

Ryou nodded dumbly.

"May I come in?"

Another nod.

Kay stepped inside and sat down on the ostentatiously huge bed. She smiled again. "Noa and Mokuba are off shopping. Everyone else is busy, and they insist that I'm a guest so I shouldn't help them. It gets kind of lonely around here. I realized that you and I have been sleeping under the same roof for almost a week, and I haven't properly introduced myself."

Ryou smiled. "Hello," he offered. "I'm . . . sorry. I haven't introduced myself, either. To be honest with you, Miss Mayer—"

"Please. Kay. 'Kay?" She chuckled at her own joke.

Ryou smiled. "Yes. Kay." He chuckled, too; quietly, awkwardly. "Well, I'm not really sure why I'm here."

"You know, I'm not, either," Kay admitted. "Mister Kaiba invited me to stay, but the more I think about it, the less it makes sense. I mean, let's say that this whole situation is just some really elaborate killing spree. You know, like the Zodiac Killer or something. Well, wouldn't I be better served staying with my friends, at Detective McKinley's house? He's a police officer! And if this Millennium Magic business is true, which I'm seriously starting to consider, then shouldn't I be staying with Mister Mutou?"

Ryou shrugged. "If you know about the Millennium Items, then you must know about Mister Kaiba's involvement with them? I mean . . . from before." Ryou thought for a moment. "Then again, maybe not. They don't like to talk about that very much."

"I don't know much about my hosts, sorry to say," Kay said. "Have you spent much time with them?"

"Not really," Ryou said, shrugging again. "I mean, I suppose I've spent more time around them than most people can claim, but . . . I don't know them very well. I'm kind of surprised that Mister Kaiba is letting me stay here." He gestured around the room. "This room is like a palace. It's almost bigger than my apartment."

Kay smiled. "The Kaiba Estate is pretty massive."

Ryou mused silently for a long time. The thought crossed his mind that most people would have eventually taken offense at his continued silence, and left the room by now. At least, that was his experience. But Kay Mayer just sat there, cool and collected, patient, still with a pleasant smile on her face.

Eventually, he said, ". . . Mister Kaiba had his first brush with Millennium Magic about five years ago, I think. I guess he found out about a Blue-Eyes White Dragon card, that Yugi's grandfather had. He wanted it. When Mister Mutou wouldn't sell it, or trade it, Mister Kaiba challenged him for it. Yugi . . . challenged Mister Kaiba after that match. Revenge, maybe? Retribution? I don't really know. But . . . that was the first time Mister Kaiba faced down the king that lives inside the Millennium Puzzle."

"Yami," Kay offered. "Atemhotep. Right?"

Ryou nodded. "Yes."

"I suppose I don't have to ask. Mister Kaiba won the match against Mister Mutou, and lost the match against Yami."

Ryou's smile was a mystifying combination of sly and shy. He nodded again. "So began the most, ah . . . explosive rivalry in Magic & Wizards. It lasted for years." Ryou noted with some chagrin that, the longer he spoke to this woman, the easier it was to speak, period.

"That must be why—well. That business with Mokuba? Telling Yugi, 'You're next.' He must want to even the score. Avenge his . . . Niisama, was it? That's right, isn't it?"

Ryou nodded. "Yes. No one has ever heard Mokuba Kaiba call his brother by his name. For that matter, I'm not sure anyone has ever heard anyone call Mister Kaiba by his name."

Kay smiled. "He does seem rather . . . private. Reserved."

"Reserved," Ryou repeated. "Maybe. He's cooled off, considerably." Something suspiciously like panic seized him, and he amended: "F-From what I've heard! My knowledge of Mister Kaiba is . . . kind of limited. We never spoke much. Or, you know, at all."

Kay's smile turned conspiratorial. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone you criticized the great Master Kaiba under his own roof." She winked. "Even if it was kind of roundabout. Come on, Ryou. May I call you Ryou?" A spasmodic little nod. "Let's go see if we can't get something to eat. You look like you haven't bothered in a while."

"I'm . . . fine. Thank you."

"I insist."

"No!" Ryou almost screeched when Kay reached out to pluck him out of his chair. She flinched, violently.

She held out her hands. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry."

"No, I . . . I'm sorry. It's just . . ." Ryou gestured to his chest. "Maybe they've mentioned to you that I have a Millennium Item, too. A ring. It's . . . dangerous. And I don't want to—you said that N-Noa isn't here right now. I don't want to risk . . . anything happening. To you, or to—anyone else."

Understanding dawned on Kay's face. "Oh . . . I see. I . . . I didn't think about that. Um . . . well, as soon as he gets back, then. You really should eat something. I don't know you that well, but you look like the sort of person who worries an inordinate amount about other peoples' welfare, and not enough about your own."

Ryou blinked.

Kay winked again. "If you don't mind my saying so. I'm a second-year psychology student. I diagnose a lot of people. I'll be the first to admit I'm not an expert, but I'm pretty close, a lot of the time."

On her way out of the room, Kay spied the Bible in the corner, lying woebegone on the floor. She picked it up, ran a hand over the thin leather cover, and set it down on the bed.

"Should I lock the door?"

Ryou nodded. "Yes. Please."

She nodded in turn, left the room, and shut the door.

Awash in new darkness, Ryou listened as the white-haired woman locked him inside. He closed his eyes, sighed, and put his head in his hands. When he dared to look up again, he saw a figure, nondescript and shimmering, standing by the bed. The figure picked up the Bible, studied it for a moment, flipping through pages seemingly at random. Then the figure of Bakari tossed the book back onto the floor.

Every spot touched by the dark spirit's fingers was damp with something that looked suspiciously, seductively, like blood.

YoU, of ALL peoPle, sHoUld KNow beTTeR.

Ryou actually smiled. It only lasted three seconds before it morphed into a grimace of pain, but it was a tiny victory, all the same.

". . . Just because I know you exist doesn't mean I believe in you. Bakari."

The spirit of the Millennium Ring threw its head back and cackled.

Verse Two.

The first thing Noa Kaiba did when he unlocked and opened the door into Ryou's room was take stock of everything inside it. His eyes stopped on the Bible, currently cradled in Ryou's lap like the body of a dying pet.

"Some light reading," Noa said, raising an eyebrow. Ryou looked up at him, and his face was gaunt. Noa sat down on the bed, on the same spot that Kay had occupied earlier. Mokuba peeked his head into the open doorway, looking worried.

". . . This . . ." Ryou murmured, lifting the battered book.

"Family heirloom?" Noa guessed. Ryou nodded miserably. "Spirit got hold of it. Bakari. Didn't he?" Another nod. Noa saw the splotches of red bleeding through the thin pages, and didn't have to ask for details. He sighed, shook his head, and stood up again.

"You . . . you go to church?" Mokuba asked tentatively.

Ryou nodded. He didn't seem interested in talking.

"Um . . . you know . . . Niisama's got a whole bunch of Bibles in his office," the boy offered. Ryou looked incredulously at the young Kaiba. Mokuba offered a little smile. "He doesn't like being caught not knowing something. So he studies all sorts of things, just in case. Religion's one of them. He has a whole bunch of translations and stuff. He could probably get a degree in Christian Studies by now."

". . . No. No, thank you." Ryou sighed. "It would just ruin one of Mister Kaiba's. This spirit, it won't rest unless it's doing something to weaken me. It says I should know better. It says . . . I have more than enough proof, hanging from my neck, that the Christian God is a fallacy. If my God were so powerful, it says, why doesn't He protect me?"

"Well . . . I mean . . . it does make you wonder, doesn't it?" Mokuba wondered. "I mean, we do know that magic is real. And the Millennium Items are Egyptian, aren't they? Maybe they were right about the afterlife, too."

Ryou smiled. "You don't believe, do you, Mokuba?"

The boy shook his head. "Not really. Not in gods or churches."

Ryou's smile turned sad. "It's not that simple, and anyway . . . it doesn't matter. Nothing I say, do, or believe will stop this. Not now. The only thing that's ever been able to stop Bakari is . . . well, Yugi and . . . you." He looked up at Noa.

"So, the problem here," Noa mused, "is that Bakari doesn't want you partaking in the comfort of the Good Book. Right?" Ryou nodded. "Well, you know what I say? I say fuck him. Here's what we're going to do, you and I. We're going to head down to the bookstore, and we're gonna pick you up a new one. I know, it won't replace the one you've lost, but this one'll be yours. You pick whatever translation, whatever size, whatever price. And then? We're gonna use that book to help you memorize every goddamn word. From 'In the beginning' to 'The grace of our Lord.' Let's see that poltergeist steal that from you."

Mokuba's face brightened.

Ryou's didn't. "If anyone was going to figure out how to rip memories out of someone's head, it would be Bakari."

"Well, nothing ventured. C'mon. Up and at 'em. Go shower up, get yourself dressed. It's shopping day. And," Noa held up a finger, "just so we can make sure old Bakari can't fuck this one up, I'll keep hold of your new prize for you. Once we banish that fucking thing to the four winds, I'll give it back to you. Though, by then, you prob'ly won't need it."

Ryou couldn't keep his lips from curving upward. ". . . Why are you doing this?" he asked. "You don't know me. You don't owe me anything. We've barely met."

Mokuba looked at his brother like he wondered about this, too.

Noa shrugged. "I'm a stubborn asshole, and I've decided I don't like that prick. Enemy of my enemy, you know? Besides, Otousama always told me it was important to socialize, so long as it was with the right sort of people. Granted, I'm not sure he was talking about somebody like you, but that's kinda what makes it fun." He winked. Mokuba was smiling. "Get ready. Ain't got too much time before business shuts down for the day."

"Miss Mayer said you haven't been eating," Mokuba said. He looked at his brother. "We should get him something to eat, too."

Noa smirked. "Works for me."

Ryou started to protest, then stopped. He hung his head, sighed, and started for the dresser where the Kaiba house staff had placed all of his clothes. A nagging little voice in the back of his mind said that he was building up a tab, and sooner or later someone would come to collect, but he couldn't keep the smile off of his face for long.

He whispered, so low that he could barely hear his own voice: ". . . Thank you."

Before the door closed behind him, Noa replied: "Do itashimashite."

Verse Three.

"You're . . . what?"

Kay offered a lopsided little smile and shrugged. "I've been staying at the Kaiba Estate. Some, um—well? Some crazy stuff's been happening, you know. Since that tournament you took me to see. And, well . . . somehow, I got myself wrapped up in it."

Katie and Renie exchanged odd looks.

"You see this?" Renie asked eventually, gesturing randomly. "We bring the new girl here, try to show her the ropes, and she just tap-dances her way into staying with the richest sumbitch in the frickin' hemisphere. Your dad's his best friend, and you ain't never been invited over there."

Katie shrugged. "Golden touch, I guess," she said loftily. She smiled at Kay. "I'm not going to ask what you said, or did, to get into his good graces, but it looks like you did. Somehow. Now, I've got just one question for you. I know that if we got invited to stay with him, well, I doubt we'd be able to contain ourselves. We'd probably end up kicked out within six hours, and our only souvenir would be a restraining order. But you're prob'ly better at behaving yourself than that. But . . . why did you accept? I mean, it's kind of weird for a total stranger to invite you to stay at his house, but it's even weirder to accept."

Kay thought about this for a long time. Eventually, she said, ". . . I'm not entirely sure, to be honest with you. I mean, like I said, things have been crazy. This vacation has been hard to keep up with, you know? And we've only got a few days before we have to head back, anyway, so . . . you know. Whatever, right? I guess I did it because I normally wouldn't. Trying to branch out, right?"

Renie rubbed her chin. "Mm-hm . . . sure. All right. I got your number, girlfriend. Makin' a move. Stakin' your claim. Well, you're already further along than anyone else in this city. I'll give you that. Don't think you're getting out of this without details, though. You hear me? I want you to draw me some goddamn schematics when this is over."

". . . This ended up a lot less awkward than I figured it would be," Kay said, as she shouldered the bag she'd prepared. She turned as Detective McKinley entered the room, eyeing her just as, if not more, suspiciously as his daughter.

"We've learned not to question things, when the subject at hand is the Kaiba family." He smiled. "You'll be taken care of, that's certain. Mokuba will make sure of that, if not Seto. Most people would warn you to be careful around that man, especially since you don't know him. But most people are idiots. If he extended the invitation, you can be sure he's resolved to play a gracious host. Well. As gracious as he gets, anyway."

Kay laughed. "He agreed to let me interview him for my C-Dev semester project."

"He what?!" Renie demanded. "You get to . . . ! Oh, I give up!"

Katie laughed. "Well done, new girl! I'm impressed. Well, I guess we'll see you back at school, then."

"Sooner than that," Kay said. "I still need a ride back to campus."

"Tch," Renie scoffed. "You'll probably get there in a private jet or something."

"He has a private jet?" Kay asked.

"Uh, duh. 'Course he does. Prob'ly got two of 'em by now."

"Think of something a billionaire is 'supposed' to have," Detective McKinley put in, "and chances are he has it. If for no better reason than to keep people from asking questions."

"He doesn't have a trophy wife," Kay said, raising an eyebrow.

Renie raised an eyebrow in turn. "He doesn't?"

Verse Four.

Mokuba sat on the back porch of the Yagami home, watching his brother attempt various drills that only he seemed to understand. Punches, kicks, stretches, poses, and a multitude of other things that seemed to do nothing except make him sweat, cry, and curse.

After about three hours of such training, Seto flopped onto his back and stared up at the sky. Mokuba stood up and ambled over to the older boy, and stared down at him. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Trying to force my body into submission," Seto replied, in that voice that sounded too old for him. The spark in his eyes, too, seemed off. Mokuba was too young to understand what that look was—or, at least, Mokuba Yagami was too young.

Mokuba Kaiba would have understood it immediately.

"By yourself?" the younger boy asked. "Don't you need, like, training or something? At a dojo? You're trying to learn how to fight and stuff, right?"

Seto grimaced and forced himself into a sitting position. "My . . . performance with those idiots was pathetic. They had no idea what they were doing. Their movements were sloppy, unrefined. Like trying to paint with a hairbrush. Yet I couldn't do a damn thing to any of them."

"You're talking weird," Mokuba said. "Like you know all about this stuff. You've never been interested in kung fu movies or anything, so . . . what the heck, Seto? You changed personalities or something."

Seto stood up. "Maybe," he said. He fell into a stance that looked impressive, somehow, to Mokuba. Yet when Seto looked down at himself, he cursed again and started stomping his feet like he might force his muscles to behave. Like they were an unruly pet.

Mokuba watched this for a minute or so, then walked over and punched his brother in the arm. Focused as he was on . . . whatever he thought he was doing, Seto reeled and tumbled onto his backside.

Seto stared at the black-haired boy with a look of such shocked betrayal that Mokuba actually felt bad. He smiled and tilted his head to the side. "Maybe you should fight me? They do that in movies a lot. Sparring partners, you know." He put his hands up in front of his face. "I saw this in a boxing movie once. You're supposed to protect your face."

Seto continued to stare. Then he muttered, "Crawford, you fucking bastard." His tone was so dark, so unrelentingly twisted, that Mokuba took a step back. Seto shook his head and stood back up. "A young snake is more dangerous than an old one," he said, "because it hasn't yet learned to hold back its venom. It doesn't know how to be efficient. I don't, either. So . . . no. Until I learn how to control my body a bit more, I won't be sparring with you. I could hurt you, or myself."

Mokuba pouted. "You think you're all bad now? I knocked you over with one punch, you know."

"Don't get high and mighty just yet," Seto snapped back. "One lucky punch doesn't mean—"

Mokuba punched him again.

Seto stared at his brother, still miraculously upright this time, and looked like he was actively plotting a murder.

Mokuba turned tail and started running straight for the house, giggling madly.

END.

"Do itashimashite" ("Don't touch my mustache"?) translates to "you're welcome" in Japanese, in case I haven't mentioned that before.

The lines that Noa mentions refer to the first line in the first book of the Bible, Genesis, and the last line in the last book, Revelation. Now, I've mentioned that I believe Ryou is a Christian. Granted, this may have to do with the simple fact that "religious" in my head translates to "some sort of Christian," because I'm a typical ignorant American, but roll with me on this one, huh? I'm adapting my best understanding of these folks into cultural nuances that I know.

As to the final verse? What do you guys think about viewing the Kaibas (Yagamis?) as actual brothers? Kinda weird, isn't it? It certainly is for me.