Hey all, this is the final part of White Padded Room. I hope you all enjoyed it. I certainly enjoyed writing it. This is fairly short compared to what you all are used to, but hey, what do you expect from an epilogue? This is from Bakura's point of view because I believed it would be interesting. Um, well, also because I know many of you want Bakura's insight on the their relationship. I tried not to keep him in character while tweaking his personality a bit. We now have a Bakura with far too much inner dialogue! How fun!

Epilogue: Recreation

Have you ever noticed things never turn out how you expect them? No matter what you do something is always different than what you expect them to be. For instance I expected the drods to be able to catch that I'm not Ryou (it's a little obvious. Honestly, some people). Somehow they still managed to believe I was him. I'm trying not to be offended. Over the years I have taken great pride in my ability to scare the shit out of people.

Another thing I never expected was what would happen after Blondie over there's ingenious (yeah right) plan was put to action. Never once did I expect that I would get out, end up living in a studio apartment with Katsuya, and work at a Starbucks. Yes that's right I—Yami no Bakura—work at a fucking Starbucks. Laugh it up while you get a chance because you'll die soon anyways.

How exactly did I end up working at an American coffee shop where as dog-boy ended up working at a videogame store (I'm sure everyone expected that one)? I have no idea. I just put in a few applications at places so Katsuya wouldn't have to get another job (it's hard to get laid when you only see your boyfriend for five hours a day in which he spends sleeping. And yes, I am aware that is a lame excuse) and applied here as a joke. Turns out Starbucks coffee pays more than any other place. Well, that and they're the only place that would be crazy enough to hire me. Caffeine impairs one's judgment apparently.

Perhaps I should stop drinking it myself then. Like that'll ever happen. I believe the most addictive thing about coffee is the smell, actually. Or at least that's what Katsuya tells me. Okay so he actually tells me that my smell is addictive. Yet once you take into consideration the fact that I spend eight hours minimum surrounded by the stuff, I smell pretty much exactly like it. Thus the scent of coffee is addictive. I'd probably like it more if I hadn't been around it everyday for two months now.

Has it really been two months already? That would me Katsuya and I have been together somewhere around five months and thirteen days. Give or take a day of course. I take a moment to go back and recount the days. Correction: five months and two weeks.  Please tell me I don't know exactly how many days I've been with him. Actually, I would prefer not to know the answer to that. I think now I shall plunder into a state of a denial and go back to thinking about coffee.

Coffee; such a wonderful thing. How could we ever survive without coffee? I smack my head against the counter. If I were to hear anyways say what I just thought I would burst out laughing because quite bluntly, it's pathetic. Therefore that leaves me pathetic. Not only have I been unconsciously counting the days I have been with my boyfriend but also I have somehow developed a strange love for coffee. Yes, that does mean that I meant what I thought just a second ago. Pardon me while I smack my head against the counter some more.

My forehead never hits the counter. Rather it ends up in a rather nice smelling palm. The scent of pine trees, such an interesting scent but it's nice. I think I could fall asleep with my head in this person's palm. Wait a second—I know this scent. I look up into the grinning face of the same boyfriend I've been seeing for five months and tw—let's not get into that again.

"You know you should really try to think of the counter's feelings before you go smacking something as hard as your head against it," Katsuya mocks. I should've known something like that was coming. Some idiotic comments such as that one are common things to hear when you live with an idiot. There's no denying Katsuya is one. Then again I am the one who has been obsessing about coffee for the last ten minutes. I guess I'm really not one to talk.

But at least now that I know whose hand this hand is I can fall asleep in it. Being that I am his boyfriend that gives me hand pillow rights. That is if there is such a thing. If not then there should be. "How is it that you always smell like pine nowadays? You never used to smell like it," after saying that I feel as if I should be smacking my head against the counter once again. Of course since a certain very nice (very, very, very nice) smelling hand is blocking my way it's rather impossible. I hate this hand. It keeps me from my masochistic ways. 

This, of course, brings on another subject. How exactly did I get to be the kind of person who would sit here, in a Starbucks, obsessing about their boyfriend's hand? Last time I checked I was the kind of person who would tear someone apart limb by limb and laugh while doing so. I think I might need to find some poor unsuspecting creatures to torture. Not a cat; never a cat. Last time I tortured a cat it put me in a straightjacket. I still shudder every time I think about that thing. But I suppose I'm getting off track here. The point is I am not the type of person who should be obsessing about the scent of a hand. Of course that doesn't stop me from doing so, but again that's not the point.

"I have a candle that I burn while I'm in the shower. It's calming," Katsuya's voice cuts through my thoughts. It takes a second for me to register that I had gone on another one of my mental rants while waiting for him to reply, and then another second for me to register exactly what he had just said. "I would prefer if you didn't comment on that," he states before I can say anything. The bastard, taking away my fun like that; it's uncalled for.

Then a thought occurs to me: exactly what the hell is Katsuya doing here? If I remember correctly he doesn't have a long enough lunch break to drive over here and get something to eat. Expecting him to skip a meal is expecting far too much. If there's one thing that commands Katsuya that would be without a doubt: his stomach. Exactly how many people do you find that can somehow manage to eat at least three large meals a day, snack constantly, and still wish that they had more food? Not very many that don't way over three hundred pounds.

I suppose asking myself this question will do me no go seeing how I'm not the one that has the answer to it. I believe I'm in dire need of figuring out how to control my inner monologue. It seems to get the better of me more often than not. "What are you doing here anyways?" He looks as if he's about to laugh as I ask him this. That's me for ya; blunt and to the point. I've never been any other way.

"I decided to take the rest of the day off," he answers. Did he really just that? Exactly why would he take the rest of the day off? "I figured that we needed to spend some time together anyways. It's been awhile since we've done anything during the day that didn't involve a bed." Either I had just voiced that last question out loud or Katsuya has suddenly developed the ability to read minds for he has just answered the question I last asked.

Yet I can't help but be a little flattered. Well, I don't know if I should be a flattered or offended. He actually wants to do something during to day that doesn't involve a bed? Either I have apparently lost my superior abilities in the sac or Katsuya is starting to want something along the lines of a normal relationship. Considering that he was biting his fist to keep from screaming when I jumped him in the shower earlier today, I shall be assuming it's the latter of the two.

As sweet as the thought is (not that I would ever admit to that aloud since I am not the romantic type in spite of my earlier hand obsession) there is one major flaw in that plan. I still have to work. Naturally this makes me hate this coffee run hell more than I did before. Yet that still doesn't change the fact that I am overly addicted to the black substance. Damn caffeine.

"Please explain to me exactly how we're going to spend time together when I have to work," I say, "I seem to have missed the part where that's possible."

He grins. Obviously I am missing something very important here. "Well, you're still going to work and I'm going to hang out here," he states. If you ask me that doesn't sound like very much fun and it's not like we can actually do much aside from talk. Oh dear lord please tell me he doesn't walk to talk. Talking is not my thing. Everyone should know that by now. When I talk I tend to get a little rambling and crazy. It's quite similar to what goes on inside of my head.

"Exactly why did you take time off work to do that?" I ask him because really, I don't see the point. Why would anyone in their right mind want to spend four hours sitting around in a coffee shop doing absolutely nothing but talking? As I take a quick look around the room I quickly revoke that statement. Apparently there are a lot of people that would to do nothing more than sit around in a coffee shop talking. Don't these people have lives?

"To keep you from trying anything," Katsuya states. I'm offended. Where in the world would he get the idea that I would try anything? Okay so maybe it's from the many times I've pulled him into bathroom stalls, abandoned rooms, and numerous other places (including a janitor's closet at Kaiba Land) for a little fun. But really, is that such a big deal? It's not like I was the only person who enjoyed it. As I have mentioned before I am very sure that Katsuya did. He tends to get quite vocal when he's enjoying himself.  "Do you have break coming up any time soon?" he asks; I quirk a brow at him. "Not for that you sex crazed freak!"

Now that hurt. I am not sex crazed. Okay so maybe just a little but that doesn't mean he has to go and point it out to me. I'm very well aware of the fact that I'm sex crazed. Ahem, just a little sex crazed that is. "Actually I have one coming up in about half an hour," I reply with a fake sigh of disappoint (okay, so maybe it was a little real), "In the mean time—can I get you some coffee?" I hate this job.

I couldn't be more grateful when that half an hour finally passes by. I swear Katsuya enjoys making people suffer. He ended up getting four Grande sized cups of some of the most complexed drinks to make. It was quite annoying. That's putting it lightly, mind you. I think he ended up only drinking half of all four of them. Bastard.

He smirks at me as I sink tiredly down into one of the couches off in the corner of the coffee shop. That's one of the up sides to working at Starbucks: they have couches for the people that like to drink coffee while reading. It proves for some nice rest after having to stand for four hours straight fixing hot drinks for people almost nonstop (have you ever noticed how popular these places are? They probably make just about as much money as Kaiba selling coffee).

But you know, couches are also good for something aside from relaxation. I grin as I pull Katsuya—who is currently sitting on the other side of the couch I just sat down on—towards me. He gives a halfhearted squeak in protest though I know he really doesn't mean it. I suppose it's just an innate reaction to public displays of affection. "So what is it that you wanted to talk about?" He shrugs his shoulders in reply.

After rambling on (okay so he didn't really ramble) about doing something that didn't involve a bed he really didn't have something to talk about. "Katsuya, you big liar," I tease, smirking. He rolls his eyes at me. Still, I believe that I'm going to hold him to his earlier comment about wanting to talk. Of course this brings up the unfortunate situation of me actually trying to think of something to talk about.

The first thing that comes to mind is Ryou. It seems like it would be a safe enough subject. "Have you talked to Ryou lately?" Katsuya seems to be taken off guard by this comment. I suppose he figures that if either of us were to talk to Ryou, it would be me. Which actually isn't true because I am far too lazy to keep in contact with anyone, even my technical 'other half'.

The situation with Ryou is actually fairly interesting. It would seem that at one point he actually wanted to be locked up inside a mental institution (I have no idea why anyone would want to be, but that's what Katsuya has so thoughtfully informed me of) yet once he had gotten in there he wanted to get out as fast as he possibly could. In the end the drods didn't believe that he was himself (which ended up in Katsuya getting yelled at quite a bit from mou hitori no ore) and he ended up pretending that he was actually, well, me. By some miracle he was able to get out rather quickly.

Where is he now? Living with that psychotic, blonde-haired Egyptian, Malik. Apparently after God knows how many months of me being locked up in that place, Malik began to feel a little guilty for putting me in there. He went to pay me a visit in order to 'apologize'. He got to talking with Ryou and they're a bit of an 'item' now. I'm trying my hardest not to run over to that tanned freak's place and rip his throat out.

"I haven't heard from him since the last time we saw him a week or so back," Katsuya informed me, once again tearing me from mental rampages. That might very well be a good thing this time around. I might have actually run out of this place to put my thoughts in to actions. What would I do without Katsuya around? Obviously not have the sort of thoughts that make me want to gag and gouge out one of my eyes. I'm a tomb robber not a romantic.

Now that our little conversation about Ryou is over with (not that you could actually call a question and an answer an actual conversation, but it's about the damn near closest thing to one we generally get) a thick silence passes over us. Or at least one would've had it not been for the fact that we are currently on a couch, in the corner of a crowed coffee house.

Couch—one word that definitely sticks in my mind. Sitting on a couch with a certain blonde haired boy that wants to 'talk', that's just about what I'm doing. Now you see, there's one thing I like about this very much. Katsuya never specified exactly what he meant by 'talk' thus leaving it open for misinterpretations that could be easily pushed off as 'I didn't know' though I very well know that he meant actually verbal conversation rather than what my mind would chose to believe. 

With this new thought (such a pleasant thought at that), I quickly grab a hold of the collar of Katsuya's work shirt and yank him towards me until our lips meet. Yes I am very well aware that I have just initiated a make out session in a Starbucks, on a couch, in the middle of the day. I am also very well aware of the fact that there are some people undoubtedly staring. But really, do you think I care? Obviously not otherwise I would've never initiated the make out session in the first place.

Much as I suspected Katsuya doesn't seem to put up any objections. Rather I find him pushing me back against the couch within a matter of seconds. This would be the moment when I wish death upon all the people who happen to be around. It's not that I would care but Katsuya's a different story. Though apparently he doesn't mind heated kisses on a couch, in a Starbucks, in the middle of the day. 

Scratch all that. It appears that he has the idea of taking things at least a little further for I soon find his lips are not on my own, but have relocated themselves to my neck. Not only that but soon I feel his tongue tenderly lapping at my skin as his fingers trail down my sides, over the fabric of my shirt. And as if he's trying to keep me on my toes, he nips none too gently. 

"Oniisama?" I'm assuming that this person is addressing Katsuya, seeing how he tenses to the point where he's practically a rock before sitting straight upwards. Somewhere in the process he ended up smacking my shoulder, which is now dully aching from the impact of his hand. Upon looking down at said shoulder I discover it's because Katsuya currently has his nails digging into my shirt and apparently just barely into my skin. How nice.

"S-Shizuka?" Ah, yes. That confirms my earlier assumptions that this girl (who is apparently named Shizuka and I'm assuming is Katsuya's imoto (1)) is talking to Katsuya. And since she just called him 'Oniisama' I am going to assume that she is his younger sister. I think I can remember him saying something once about having a younger sister. Then again that might have been Ryou. Note to self: pay more attention to what people are saying when they talk to you. Of course I know that's not going to happen, but it's still a nice thought.

"W-what are you doing here?" Katsuya literally squeaked out. I chuckle to myself, surprised that my comment didn't earn me some sort of an elbow to the stomach or smack on the arm. He didn't hit me! He must be mortified. Aw, and here I thought he wouldn't be ashamed to have his sister catch him sucking my neck on a couch inside of Starbucks. I guess that's what I get for doing my own thinking.

She blinks a few times then smiles warmly (and here I thought all Jounouchi were only capable of idiotic grins) before saying, "Seto-kun just stopped by to get some coffee and I decided to come inside with him," I don't believe that Katsuya likes this answer since he turns blue. That's right, he doesn't go pale; he goes blue. I think he might be forgetting to breathe. I find this fascinating so I decide to stare.

I raise an eyebrow as Katsuya turns an even darker shade of blue. He has definitely forgotten to breathe. I follow his line of vision to discover why. Kaiba has just walked up to Katsuya's imoto and placed a hand on her shoulder. Not only that but she doesn't seem to mind too much. Actually, she's smiling even more than she had been before. "There's no one up there. We're leaving." I blink and quickly glance over at the clock and pale a bit. My break's been over for about five minutes now. Oops.

"What time does the movie star—" The last part of her sentence (or word?) was cut off by the sound of Katsuya hitting the floor. Apparently his imoto dating (that's what I'll be assuming considering the hand on the shoulder and Katsuya's imoto just implied them going to a movie) the person he hates most in the world is too much for him to handle. I use this newfound opportunity to rearrange my clothing to, well, rearrange my clothing.

Katsuya's imoto looks down at him with a worried look whereas Kaiba smirks. Jerk, smirking at my boyfriend's dismay. As for me, well, I'm smirking too. That still doesn't give Kaiba smirking rights. But given that they are currently distracted from their earlier mentioned task of leaving, I decide to ask question that will surely give me ass kicked off the room if I didn't ask them.  "So how long have you two been dating?"

Kaiba gives me a distraught look as if my question offended him. "We're not dating," he states simply. This, of course, causes me to raise an eyebrow at him. Now what exactly is he doing touching Katsuya's imoto like that if they're not dating. I think that dumbass boyfriend of mine will be more pissed off to know that Kaiba's getting fresh with his sister than them actually dating. Or maybe I just enjoy overanalyzing things. Is touching someones shoulder what you would consider 'getting fresh' with them?

"Then what are you?" I ask. It's another one of those questions that if I didn't ask it would end in me sleeping on the couch. At this point I almost stop to wonder if somehow Katsuya has managed to turn into my wife-type-figure. I quickly stop myself from doing so. Marriage or anything even a close to it is a ground I refuse to tread on.

"She's Mokuba's girlfriend." Again this makes me raise an eyebrow. That certainly is an interesting twist that I wouldn't have thought of. I can just imagine the look on Katsuya's face when he finds out. He'll probably faint again. Though I doubt he'll be upset (or as upset) that it's Mokuba and not Kaiba his imoto is with.

"Seto-kun doesn't trust Mokuba and I to be alone yet, so he doesn't let us go out unless him or someone else comes with us. I've been dating Mokuba for about six months now." I look over at Kaiba with an, 'oh really?' sort of look on my face. This guy really must have no life if he's tagging along on these two days and for six months no less. Doesn't he have a company that he should be running?

"And he still won't let you two be alone? How cruel," I say and sound completely sincere in doing so. Kaiba glares at me; I beam. Maybe not quite beam but more of a proud grin.

"I think the role of having to be the overprotective elder brother and both of Mokuba's parents along with it has made him a little more paranoid then needed," Katsuya's imoto quickly explained. When retelling this to Katsuya, I'll be sure to leave out the fact that she defended Kaiba. That would certainly bump up his priorities of wringing the bastard's neck quite a bit. That would be, of course, after he was busy telling his imoto that she shouldn't be standing up for Kaiba.

But alas, all good conversations must come to an end. Note the sarcasm. "I'll pretend to I didn't hear that if we leave right now," Kaiba says to Katsuya's imoto. You see, I would let the go, but I am very well aware of the fact that Kaiba has yet to get his coffee. And since he's an enemy of Katsuya (and I would surely get repaid tenfold for this in bed once he finds out what I have planned) I won't let him leave that easily.

"Do you still want that coffee before you leave? My break is over," I state in a bland tone of voice. This is what I like to call the 'work tone'. It's the same tone that everyone develops after working at the same place for a long period of time. This is the tone that I find myself saying, 'Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get for you today?' about a hundred times a day.

"Might as well. And, make that a latté," He orders, which, naturally, makes my eye twitch in annoyance. I hate being ordered around. I get myself up off the couch, stepping over my currently comatose boyfriend as I make my way to the counter.

I believe one of the gallons of milk in the cabinet under the coffee maker is bad. I smirk. Oh how I love being evil.

==============

Translations:

Oniisama – Elder brother

Imoto – Younger sister

Well, I must admit that this turned out to be a whole hell of a lot longer than I had expected it to be. Nonetheless, I hope that you all enjoyed it. Bakura's thoughts kind of got away with me at some points, if you couldn't tell. The lemon version of this will be posted on adultfanfiction.net. If you are unable to access aff.net then snatch my AIM SN or e-mail address off of my profile and drop me a line. I'll e-mail it to your personally when I have it done. However don't expect this to happen for a while, as I am very bad when it comes to getting out lemons. Oh—before anyone asks: the lemon shall appear in chapter 5.

One last thing; I wanted to thank all that reviewed. I can't believe this is going to actually hit not 80, but quite possibly 90 reviews! I'd put all the names and little messages to those who did but that would take me too much time and I'm such a slacker!

P.S. I don't mean to be so mean to Seto in this! I actually really like him. Demo, the characters in this don't share my liking!