A/N: Edited for grammatical errors on 10/23/2017

Chapter Eight

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"So," chirped an overexcited Yuugi the following Monday, "how was your weekend, Bakura-kun?"

In all honesty, Ryou felt the need to lie. How would he tell Yuugi that he spent his weekend holed up in his room toying with cursed items, reading and rereading books on the spirit world, and attempting dark rituals all in the hopes of bringing back Yami Bakura? His father had gone off on Saturday night, likely to a bar, and hadn't returned since. And while Ryou was worried about him, some part of him was grateful that the man was gone.

But most importantly, his weekend had been almost unbearably lonely. He'd grown accustomed to Marik's presence throughout the last two weeks, and without him around the absence of Bakura was even more pronounced. The voice had spoken to him on more than one occasion, but this of course only served to make Ryou even more miserable. He could only be thankful that the bruise on his cheek had gone away before Monday arrived; he wasn't sure how he would've explained that away.

Hesitantly, Ryou smiled at his friend, unconsciously curling in on himself. "It was fine," he said simply, hoping beyond all hope that Yuugi would buy it.

He didn't, of course, but he didn't push either.

The two replaced their sneakers for their indoor shoes in silence, the bustling of the student populous around them a bit suffocating but otherwise ignored. Ryou could feel his friend's gaze flicker towards him every few moments. It sent chills down his spine every time.

For some reason, whenever Yuugi looked at him, all he could feel was shame. Somewhere deep inside him, he feared that Yuugi knew the things he'd done, the things he'd thought and wanted to do. It made him feel almost unbearably guilty, perhaps even paranoid to some extent.

But his paranoia had all but vanished in the past two weeks, hadn't it? He no longer felt so in touch with the surrounding world, was no longer sensitive to every movement or noise. This was something he'd only noticed recently, in fact, but it both pleased him and bothered him all at once. While his paranoia wasn't exactly a good thing, it wasn't a bad thing either. Sure, it got him worked up over nothing half of the time, but it also helped prepare him for things he had no control over. He always knew when it would rain, always knew when someone was watching him, and he could read emotions as though it were a children's book. He was always prepared, always aware, and it often allowed him to take caution when necessary.

But now he simply felt like he'd been cast into the desert naked with no worldly belongings to help him survive. He felt helpless, and he hated it.

Perhaps it was another thing to blame the voice for.

"Are you coming?" Yuugi asked, resting a hand gently on his friend's arm. His large amethyst eyes blinked at Ryou in concern, lips barely quirked into a smile as though he couldn't bring himself to fully create the expression.

Ryou swallowed somewhat nervously and nodded. "Yes, sorry. I must have gotten distracted."

Nodding in understanding, the shorter of the two gently clasped hands with his friend and tugged him in the direction of their first period. Anzu joined them along the way, chatting happily with a suddenly energetic Yuugi after exchanging a few brief pleasantries with Ryou.

The first thing the whitette noticed upon entering the classroom was that Marik's desk was unoccupied. While he felt his stomach flip, Ryou couldn't help but be a little relieved; he wasn't sure if he was ready to face the Egyptian quite yet. The second thing, however, he knew he wasn't ready to face now or ever.

When their eyes met across the room, Jounouchi flushed a deep crimson, his blush heating all the way up to the tips of his ears, and let out a rather unmanly noise from the back of his throat. Ryou coughed, embarrassed, and both looked away quickly.

Raising an eyebrow, Yuugi was clearly curious, but thankfully he didn't ask. Sometimes Ryou was honestly grateful for his little friend's kindness.

English, as the class subject was, had always been an easy subject for Ryou. He'd had an English mother and a Japanese father, and had therefore grown up learning to speak both languages. Only Jounouchi could speak English fluently, having been raised in New York for most of his childhood, but Anzu, who planned to move to America after graduation, was steadily becoming more skilled in the foreign tongue. Ryou also knew that Kaiba Seto could also speak English due to his business expanding to overseas countries, but Ryou didn't exactly count him as he also knew a variety of other languages as well.

Either way, Ryou had always felt at home in English class in a way that most others simply couldn't. Jounouchi, for one, mostly slept through his classes or passed notes to Honda, Kaiba was too busy with his laptop to actually pay attention, and while Anzu was a bit ahead of the rest of the class, English was not her native tongue. Ryou often considered himself to be the only one who could truly appreciate the course.

It was because of this that, once seated, his worries began to slip away.

Losing himself in the lesson, the Brit found that he felt more at ease than he had in a long while. His shoulders sagged into a more relaxed position, losing their tension, and holding his eyes open wasn't so much of a burden anymore. It was only when the teacher called for them to partner up that he returned to reality.

He looked to Yuugi first, finding that his friend had already paired with Anzu. He didn't even bother glancing in Jounouchi's direction. Shrugging, Ryou stood and made his way over to Kaiba, as he often did when his friends were at an odd number. The CEO never minded his company, strangely enough, despite claiming to despise anyone that wasn't himself or Mokuba, and especially those close to Yuugi. Ryou would never go as far as calling them friends, but he assumed that he was the closest thing to one that Kaiba had.

And that thought often left him sad. Kaiba wasn't such a bad person, in actuality. He was simply devoted wholeheartedly to his brother. Kaiba wanted to give Mokuba the world, and so far he was doing a pretty damned good job at it.

Maybe that's what Jounouchi saw in him.

Before Ryou could reach the CEO, however, his path was intercepted unexpectedly by the transfer student. For a long moment neither spoke, Ryou a bit surprised and Akefia appearing to have some inner battle with what could only be himself, but finally the Egyptian steeled himself and spoke up.

"I don't have a partner," he said simply, pale brows drawn irritably.

Smiling kindly, Ryou nodded and gestured for Akefia to follow him back to his seat. It wasn't like Kaiba would care either way if he joined him or not, he figured. Besides, Akefia didn't have any friends yet aside from Yuugi, if that even counted as a friendship, and probably felt uncomfortable in partnering situations. Ryou knew the feeling and could sympathize.

"Alright," the Brit huffed, plopping himself onto his chair. Akefia dragged another up to his desk and sat across from him. "So, we're supposed to act like strangers - easy enough, seeing as you're new - and share things about ourselves."

Akefia sighed, obviously reluctant.

"It doesn't need to be anything personal," Ryou assured, leaning forward in his seat a little. "Just things like, I don't know, your favourite foods and colours?"

"Sounds fine," the Egyptian murmured, crossing his arms. "You first."

Ryou nodded. "My name is Bakura Ryou," he began, "and I am sixteen years old. I like all things occult, enjoy watching horror movies, and I like just about any foods. My favourite colour is blue, and I want to be ghost hunter when I'm older."

He worried for a moment that Akefia may not understand completely, as Chouno had said that he's failing all of his classes, but he also remembered him speaking English before after Ryou fainted in phys ed. The transfer student nodded, understanding it was his turn, and paused for a moment to think.

"I am Akefia Bakura. I was born in Egypt, was raised by my mother and father until their death, and recently began attending Domino High school in Domino, Japan. My favourite colour is red, my favourite food is roast pig, and I don't really have any hobbies."

Raising a brow, Ryou propped his chin on his hands. "How can anyone not have any hobbies?"

"I don't do much other than go to school and sleep lately," Akefia responded, shrugging.

"Sleep? Are you tired often?"

"Even when I'm not, it helps to pass the time."

"Good, you two," the teacher praised, smiling proudly at the pair before moving on to scold another for speaking in Japanese.

Ryou hummed contemplatively, closing his eyes for a moment. When he finally opened them, preparing to speak, he found a pair of ashen eyes watching him. "What?" He asked, suddenly feeling self conscious. "Is there something on my face?"

"No," Akefia assured, "I was just wondering something." He waited until Ryou nodded in permission to continue to do so. "You asked me before - you asked me before about the Millennium Items. But how is it that you know about them in the first place?"

Gulping, Ryou averted his gaze to his desktop. In all honesty, he should have seen this coming. While he was unfazed by the switch into English halfway through, he decided he may as well use it to get something out of the situation. "Alright," he mumbled, "I'll tell you if you tell me how you can speak English so well. You hardly even have an accent."

"Ah," Akefia mused, a hint of a smirk pulling at his dark lips. "Well played." Uncrossing his arms, the Egyptian sat up straighter and leaned forward a little, mimicking Ryou's position. "I was once… very close to someone who was partially English. He taught me to speak it, among other things."

"I see… And are you still close to this person?"

Akefia frowned. "Not exactly. We were… seperated when I left."

"Oh," Ryou murmured, "sorry…"

His partner simply shrugged in response. "Your turn."

"Okay. Well… I was wondering about the Millennium Items because I own one. The Ring, in fact." Akefia nodded, gesturing towards the golden trinket dangling around Ryou's neck. "Right. I just wanted a little background, I guess."

"What is it like? Having molten bodies and souls hanging from your person?" When Ryou flinched, looking rather sickened at the wording, Akefia shot him an apologetic look and hurried to correct himself. "I mean, they're said to be haunted."

Ryou bit his lip. "Well, yes, some of them are…"

"And yours? Is it haunted?"

"I… um..." Swallowing, the Brit averted his gaze, unknowingly seeking out Yuugi. The small duelist was chatting away happily with Anzu, the brunnette appearing to have given up on getting her friend to communicate in English. His eyes accidentally caught Jounouchi's, the blonde stiffening in his seat.

And then something strange happened.

Jounouchi shot out of his seat, chair crashing loudly to the floor and attracting attention that seemed to go unnoticed by him, and stalked briskly across the room to everyone's mutual confusions. A few worried whispers were exchanged as Jounouchi marched right up to Kaiba, fists clenched. For a moment Ryou feared his friend was about to pick a fight. This thought was thrown out of the window, however, when the blonde grabbed Kaiba's face in both hands and smashed their mouths together.

Honda whistled lowly and leaned back in his seat across the room, obviously taken off guard by the suddenness but not entirely shocked by the development. Ryou watched on with a sad little smile playing on his lips. A part of him was hurting - the part that belonged to Bakura - but another, much larger part of him was happy for his friend when the usually cold CEO began to kiss back just as determinedly.

"I never thought I'd see the day," Anzu could be heard saying, her and a few of the other girls in the room giving a grand round of applause for the unlikely couple.

"Woo! Go Jounouchi-kun!" Yuugi was cheering.

When the two long-time rivals finally pulled away, one flushing madly and the other smirking victoriously, Ryou turned back to his partner, a smile still pulling his face wide. He blinked in surprise when he found Akefia's seat empty, the smile falling as he glanced around in confusion for the missing transfer student.

The murmuring of the television alerted him first to his father's presence upon his arrival home that day, the smell of cigarette smoke following moments later. Wrinkling his nose, Ryou stepped out of his shoes and into his slippers, dropping his keys off as he made his way into the sitting room. His father lounged casually on the couch, a stick of cancer poking out from between his pursed lips, his feet crossed on the coffee table as though they belonged there.

Most disappointingly, a woman was curled up at his side, head resting on his shoulder, her body mostly exposed save for one overly large tee-shirt that just barely reached her thighs. She looked up at him as if not really seeing him, before turning her attention back onto the telly.

"Where have you been?" His father slurred, not even sparing him a glance.

Ryou scowled. "School. And you? Where have you been, dad?"

"Stay outta my business, boy. Don't you have homework to do or somethin'?"

Sighing heavily, Ryou left the two to their own devices and crept quietly up to his room. It had been a long while since his father had brought a woman home when he was around to witness it, as Ryou was still rather sensitive to the topic of his mother's death and seeing his father "moving on" always left him bitter and depressed.

After ordering some curry from CoCo Curry House for dinner - he wasn't exactly in a cooking mood tonight - he flopped onto his bed and curled in on himself, staring at the wall blankly as his tugged his comforter up over his body so as to disappear.

He wondered what Marik spent his day doing; wondered if he'd been alone all weekend. No doubt the absence of Ishizu had been more pronounced after the confrontation. While Ryou still felt somewhat guilty over the ordeal, he knew deep down that he hadn't done anything wrong. Either Marik had gone into some sort of defensive mode, or he'd been manipulating him all along and had simply snapped. The thought of him having been telling the truth left an ache in Ryou's heart.

But Marik had always been a rather destructive person by nature. What if he'd done something to himself? To someone else? What if he'd not come to school because he couldn't rather than simply not wanted to? Ryou hoped he was hiding. He hoped it wasn't serious.

He shouldn't be so concerned, he mentally scolded. Marik claimed to hate him. Lying or not, it had still been said. Ryou shouldn't been thinking of him now, not when there was a chance that he'd only end up hurt in the end. Maybe this was why Kaiba never cared for people. Maybe he was afraid of getting hurt.

Only, this wasn't exactly true. Kaiba cared for Jounouchi now. There had to be something there that made the hurt worth it, should it ever come.

Shaking his head, Ryou burrowed himself further into his blanket. He wanted to forget - to forget everything, if only for a little while.

Shock. Disbelief. Hurt. Hope. Desperation.

As if his heart couldn't decide on which emotion to settle on, he found himself flooded by an enormous tidal wave full of them. It hit him all at once with that single glance, choking him, squeezing him, leaving him painfully confused and breathless.

What could be considered his hands felt as though they were twitching, aching to reach out, to touch. To check for reality. For lies. Confusion. Hallucination? Surely. This couldn't be real. It simply wasn't possible.

"I watched you die!" He screamed, his entity throbbing, pulsing. He felt his host falter, having felt the tremor inside his head. "I watched you die!"

But he was here, wasn't he? He could see his host extending a hand, carelessly, unknowingly, and clasp around his. Bakura seethed, his soul writhing in its enclosure, begging to be freed.

"The name's Jounouchi. Jounouchi Katsuya."

His everything burned, crumbled, decayed. He could see amber eyes shining with friendliness, with openness, the same kindness that took him months to unravel. They were red once, though, red as a ruby, red as the desert sun setting on the sandy horizon. He'd only seen them amber once.

Once…

"An imposter," a voice whispers in his head, soothingly, persuading. He nods, latching onto his guide with desperation. "He isn't real. He is mocking you. Mocking your pain."

"Mocking my pain, yes, my pain."

"This is a trick. A cruel trick, thief, a cruel trick indeed. How dare he?"

"Cruel, so cruel, how dare he? How… dare…?"

"Punish him. Make him pay. He deserves it. Punish him."

"Punish…?"

"Punish."

"Punish…"

But the vision changes. It blurs for a moment, startling him, and he growls in rage. Come back, come back! It does, he doesn't, but someone else - someone far worse - can be seen in his stead.

Colourful hair that defies gravity, a golden pyramid trinket around his neck, eyes deceivingly innocent, falsely kind… Touching his host, touching him, touching him.

He hates, he hates, he hates. He needs to kill, to destroy.

"Mocking you," comes the whisper. "Take over the boy. Kill them."

"Kill them…"

"Now, thief. Kill them."

"Yes, master. Kill them… Kill…"

"Say my name."

"Kill…"

"Say my name, and I shall give you strength. Go on, thief, say it. Say it."

"Ah… Zorc. Master Zorc. Zorc Necrophades!"

A/N: -muffled coughing noises-

Any feedback or criticism is appreciated. Review(?)