Absolution

Chapter Five: Stockholm Syndrome

"This is the last time I'll abandon you,

And this is the last time I'll forget you.

I wish I could."

Ryou didn't go to school that day. Despite the fact that his alarm clock had brought an end to the torture, he'd found he wasn't in any condition to leave his apartment. It had taken him nearly an hour to work up the energy just to leave his bed; he was exhausted and drained, his legs barely supported his own weight, and even now, hours after Bakura had ceased, the muscles in Ryou's thighs still twitched and burned. To say nothing of the flesh between his thighs.

He knew that the spirit's actions had been born out of punishment, he knew that he had experienced an agony few could comprehend—to be brought to peak after peak without being allowed to spill over, to be denied ultimate fulfillment for hours on end—yet some part of him had relished Bakura's touches. Never in his sixteen years had Ryou been given pleasure so intense that it was bordering on the painful and, though he knew it was sick, he wanted to feel it once more. It wasn't the sort of pleasure that was sane or logical, but it was addictive, and now that he'd had that first taste of darkness, he knew he would want it again.

Which was exactly why he had been hesitant to stay home alone. At school there would have been people around to distract him and deflect Bakura's attention; at home, it was just the two of them. And, though the spirit had remained silent since disappearing that morning, Ryou knew it was only a matter of time before one of them caved toward the other. He had a horrible suspicion that it was going to be him; he'd always been awful at resisting temptation. Bakura was so far beyond temptation, it was hard to describe him as anything but downright seductive—and it was impressive that Ryou had been able to resist for as long as he had. The tanned spirit was darkness and decadence personified, everything Ryou had been subconsciously chasing after for years. Suddenly, those desires were within his grasp, all wrapped up in a pretty package; the fact that they were technically the same person suddenly added a layer of enticing corruption, where only yesterday it had seemed profane.

It was terrifying how spending one night submerged in the frustrating arms of incomplete passion could so thoroughly change a person's outlook.

"What did I do to deserve any of this?" Ryou asked himself, flipping channels on his small TV. He had hoped that the mindlessness of daytime entertainment would take his thoughts off his current situation, but it had done nothing of the sort. His body itched and hummed with restless energy despite the fact that he kept dozing off, his skin felt too tight, and his thoughts kept wandering back to the spirit of the Sennen Ring. He was in a quandary; he couldn't get rid of the spirit without getting rid of the Ring, which the spirit would always prevent him from doing; he didn't want to give into the physical temptation that the spirit presented, but Bakura wouldn't allow Ryou to achieve some much needed pleasure on his own. And, no matter how he thought things through, his choices always came back to two options: give in to the spirit's wickedness, or suffer in silence.

Ryou had briefly considered finding someone at school to relieve his tensions with, but the plan had yielded too many problems. For one thing, he didn't relish the thought of a one-night stand with a person he barely knew but would be forced to face for who knew how long. For another thing, he had a horrible suspicion that Bakura would interrupt any such encounter; the spirit had seemed pretty adamant that they suffer this together.

And that was the funny thing about Bakura's 'punishment'—the spirit had been made to suffer too. Granted, out of the two of them, Ryou had suffered the more immediate agony, but Bakura… How difficult had it been to suffer his own arousal, and to have no physical body with which to slake that lust? Throughout the night the spirit had put talented hands to pale flesh, had had to watch for hours as the boy before him was teased and tormented, had been made to suffer through the stimulation of pleasured whimpers and visual gratification. If Ryou had to take a guess, he would say that Bakura had probably been just as sexually frustrated by the end of the night as he had, if not more. And it was that thought that kept him from truly hating the tanned boy—if Ryou had suffered alone he would have been able to rally and rebel against the spirit, but he knew that they had both been punished last night.

A shrill ringing interrupted his thoughts—the piercing call of the telephone. He hadn't given his number out to anyone, which meant it was probably his family. At the moment, he couldn't think of anyone he wanted to hear from less. But, with a weary sigh, he answered the phone anyway. "Hello?"

"Ryou?" Yugi's sweet, boyish voice filtered in from the other line. "Are you all right?"

"I'm sorry?" he asked confusedly—he'd been expecting his mother's voice, and instead he'd gotten a friend's.

"You weren't at school today," Yugi replied, a note of worry in his tone. "Did something happen?"

Ryou refrained from snorting; he could hardly explain his reasons for staying home to innocent little Yugi. "I'm fine," he responded, trying to thread some gruffness into his voice. "I just caught a bit of a cold," he continued, adding a fake cough for good measure. The fact that he was more amused than ashamed at lying to his friend should have bothered him.

A heavy silence descended over the line for a minute. "Ryou, did something happen?" Yugi repeated, but it was clear he was asking about the Ring this time.

The pale boy sighed, slumping against the nearest wall. "One day, Yugi, I might work up the courage to explain everything to you, but right now I'm too confused and your harsh judgment will only make things worse."

"I won't judge," Yugi responded immediately. "Please Ryou, let me help—"

"There's nothing to be done right now," Ryou said with finality, hanging up on his still pleading friend. His brows furrowed as he contemplated their brief exchange. "I didn't give him my phone number," he mused lowly.

Bakura's deep chuckle wafted through his thoughts. Perhaps we're not the only ones who can find things that don't belong to us, he broke his hours long silence.

The pale boy closed his eyes, resigned to losing what peace he had achieved. "There's no us about this, Bakura," he replied. "You stole those jewels, not me. I might retain possession of them—which, I will freely admit, is wrong—but I didn't help you go out and acquire them."

Would you like to? the spirit asked, a smile in his voice.

Ryou blinked. "What?"

Bakura hummed tunelessly to himself for a moment. I think, maybe, you should.

"That I should what?" the younger boy snapped in frustration.

Learn the family trade, Bakura laughed. And I don't mean designing tombs.

"You were an architect?" Ryou asked incredulously. "I thought you said you were a Tomb Robber."

The easiest tombs to rob are ones you had a hand in creating, the spirit replied easily.

The pale boy was quiet for a minute. "You were kind of a bastard, weren't you?"

Amused laughter met his ears, but Bakura ignored his question, moving back to the original topic at hand. So, would you like to come along?

"I don't need to learn how to steal," Ryou shook his head.

I didn't ask if you needed to know, the spirit countered. I asked if you wanted to know.

"No," but even to Ryou the word sounded weak and overly curious.
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In a few short hours, Domino City was blanketed by the cool darkness of night. It was a time of silence, of rest, of quiet reflection—

"Stop your complaining," Bakura snapped, disturbing the calm. "Night is the time when nasty things come out of hiding so that they can lurk about menacingly. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

Aren't you going to knock me out? Ryou asked, unable to keep the whine out of his voice. It's bad enough that I know you're going to take something I won't have the force of will to return, I don't need to be a party to crime while it happens!

Bakura chuckled quietly. "You'll change your mind, trust me."

I don't want to know how you steal things! Ryou repeated adamantly.

It had been strange and disconcerting when Bakura had taken complete control of his body. The first time it had happened, Ryou had been forced to sleep, but this time he had seen the horror with his own eyes. With a flash from the Ring, his normally gentle features had sharpened sinisterly—he had seemed taller, leaner, his hair had spiked out wildly, his eyes had narrowed dangerously, and his smile had sharpened predatorily. Standing before the mirror was the creature he had glimpsed when first donning the Ring: the phantom with his face.

Now, as Bakura dashed from shadow to shadow, making his way to an unknown destination, Ryou wanted nothing more than to be blissfully unaware of what was going on. But he didn't know how to disconnect himself, didn't know how to close his mental eyes, or escape to that quiet hallway between their souls. All he could do was stare out of a body he couldn't control—it was like last night all over again, only this time it was pleasure of a different sort that tormented him.

The thrill of doing something wicked, the anticipation of a chase, and the sweet burn of greed hummed through his blood.

"This really isn't that difficult," Bakura murmured, coming to halt.

Here? Ryou asked, panicked. You're going to steal from here? The building before them spiraled out of the ground, rising into the sky like a giant, until it dominated everything near it. It was the tallest building in all of Domino City, as easy to fear as it was to worship—the Kaiba Corp super complex: an office, a theme park, and a shopping center, all in one.

"Aim high, little one," Bakura responded, "or it simply isn't worth it. Now," he crouched low, "as I was saying, this really isn't that difficult. Your first step is to be sure you're alone." The Ring flashed.

A jumble of images assaulted Ryou, disappearing as quickly as they had come.

"The Sennen Ring can see farther than either of us," the spirit explained. "It tells me that there are a couple of guards stationed around here, but the perimeter of the building is so large that it will hardly be any trouble at all to avoid them." He straightened from his crouch. "So tell me, Ryou, how would you enter the building?"

I wouldn't, he responded acerbically.

"Humor me," the spirit pressed, a warning in his voice.

Ryou sighed. I don't know… break open a window, I guess.

"You could do that," Bakura agreed, "if you want to completely give yourself away."

I didn't ask to be here, Ryou snapped, so don't mock me.

"True," the spirit conceded, "but you would still end up in prison if we were caught, so we are in this together," He paused to let that information sink in. "You're thinking about this all wrong," he continued after a moment. "How do you normally enter a building?"

Without the intent to rob anyone blind, the boy muttered to himself. Through the door, he added before the spirit could growl at him. But it's locked.

"Locks are easy enough to pick," Bakura countered. His fingers delved into a pocket, withdrawing a set of strange looking pins and screwdrivers Ryou knew he didn't own, much less carried around with him. The spirit quickly set to work, a blur of movement and quiet clicks until, with a metallic pop, the lock disengaged.

This doesn't seem right, Ryou shook his mental head. Kaiba Corp is one of the most technologically advanced companies in the world, and this building is their crowning jewel—why would they have such easily circumvented security?

"Because arrogance can bring even the mightiest of us to our knees," the spirit replied while he replaced his tools. "They're the biggest and the best, so they think there is nothing to fear." He paused, his hand on the door. "But you are right; that was too easy," but even as the spirit spoke, he was pushing open the door.

A sound broke the stillness of the night—a sound so high it could barely be interpreted by human ears. An alarm, Ryou cursed. We're screwed.

But Bakura just laughed. "Don't jump to conclusions so quickly," he chastised. "This just means we have to work fast." The Sennen Ring flashed once more, and the building not only fell silent, but it fell into complete darkness as well. "This will buy us a little time, and provide us with some cover."

Is there anything the Ring doesn't do? Ryou asked curiously.

"Who's to say?" the spirit shrugged, dashing through the building. "The Sennen Items are more powerful than anyone can comprehend, even those who created them."

And you use yours for petty theft, the boy snorted.

"There's nothing petty about it," Bakura replied, hastening past closed stores. "I stole more wealth in one lifetime than some countries can lay claim to throughout their entire history."

Ryou ignored the dim glitter and sparkle of storefront merchandise. Though he knew the building had been plunged into a murky darkness, he had hardly any trouble seeing at all. You're much too proud of that fact.

"You would be too," the thief said, finally stopping in front of a shop. "It's an achievement worth bragging about." He contemplated the wares on display behind the closed doors. "I think you need some new clothes," he mused.

No, the boy immediately disagreed.

Bakura walked closer to the store, pointing at a striking coat on display. "But imagine that soft material brushing you from shoulder to ankle, caressing every plane of your body. Do you know what it's like to be enveloped by the trophy of a hunt gone so very right?"

Ryou's thoughts immediately went to the long red coat the tanned boy wore when he appeared in his spirit form. He had, distantly, admired the garment—

"You could have one of your own," Bakura coaxed, interrupting the boy's thoughts.

Just like with the jewels, once Ryou's eyes were fixed on a prize, his resistance melted away. Greed burned through him like a savage fire, leaving nothing behind but the fierce desire for that coat. I want one in black, he murmured. He didn't own much in the way of black clothing, his parents had always disapproved of the color.

"Anything you want," Bakura purred, already working the lock on the shop's door.
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It hadn't taken long for the police and the security guards to respond to the abruptly silenced alarm, but by then Ryou and Bakura were already gone. Their short spree had spanned across four different stores, yielding hundreds of dollars in clothing, fine art, and games.

Though he knew it was wrong, and he was likely to completely deny it later, Ryou had to admit that he had gotten caught up in the moment—he had been a willing partner and student for Bakura. In a sad testament of truth, the pale boy knew he'd had more fun that night than he'd had in many years.

Which was why finding Yugi standing outside Ryou's apartment as he dragged his stolen treasures home was more unwelcome than if the police had been waiting for him. Yugi was a slap from reality, a painful reminder of the innocence he was losing and the friends he didn't know how to face.

"I didn't want to think it was you," Yugi shook his head, his violet eyes clouding over. "But when you mentioned that the spirit of the Ring was a thief, just after we had talked about the jewel robbery, I couldn't help but be suspicious." He eyed the pale boy from head to toe, taking in the long coat he was wearing, the assorted jewelry that flashed in the dim lighting, and the sacks of pilfered goods he held tight in his clenched hands. "You didn't pay for a single thing in any of those bags, did you?"

Ryou didn't break eye contact with the smaller boy, but he didn't answer him either. Denial would be incriminating, and the truth, so sweet moments before, was a painful thing to admit aloud to his friend. "It's complicated," he demurred, fishing the key to his front door out of a pocket.

"It's the Ring," Yugi returned plainly. "I know you would never do anything like this on your own—"

"How would you know?" Ryou snapped, becoming defensive—guilt and fear ate away at him, forcing him to push Yugi away, mentally if not physically. "We've known each other for all of three days, and suddenly you're the expert on Ryou Bakura?" he asked sarcastically. "You never know the true measure of a man until you've seen him under pressure—well this is me under pressure, Yugi! I've given in to temptation, I've welcomed corruption."

"Which never would have been a problem in the first place if it weren't for the spirit in of Ring," the smaller boy argued.

"It doesn't work like that," Ryou shook his head. "We're the same person, him and I. Even if we'd never met, the qualities that he's drawn out in me still would have been there, waiting to be awakened."

Yugi became very still, his eyes going distant. "I refuse to believe that," he said firmly, clutching his Puzzle.

"Whether you believe in it or not, the truth remains the same," the albino replied.

Yugi refocused, but his bearing was different now—he was different now. It was the Other Yugi again. Red eyes gazed at the pale boy accusingly. "The door to darkness has opened, Ryou," he growled, his voice low and rough, "and you're too much of a fool to resist it."

"That's more than a little ironic coming from someone who's too much of a fool to realize he is the darkness," Ryou replied, backing away from the other boy. "How long are you going to carry on pretending to be Yugi?"

The Eye of Horus began to burn brightly across the Other Yugi's forehead, glowing ominously. For one brief moment, before everything went black, Ryou sensed Bakura scramble for control of their body, but it was too late. As the world faded away, Ryou felt the Ring being ripped from him. Then there was simply nothingness.
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The moment he awoke, he knew something was wrong. His head felt as though it had been jammed with wool, and that sense of extra he'd gotten so used to was gone. No, he narrowed his eyes, it wasn't completely gone—there were hollow echoes where it had once been, like a phantom limb that didn't know it had been severed off.

Shakily, Ryou stood from his slump on the floor, taking a look around him. He was in his apartment, dazedly circling his own kitchen floor. On the nearby table rested the bags of his stolen treasures, the pilfered jewelry still graced him, and the filched coat enveloped him in a cloud of soft black leather. Nothing was missing, except—

"Bakura?" Ryou asked quietly. Heavy silence met his ear, so he tried again. "Bakura?" he asked louder. Still no response. He sped from room to room, shouting for the other as his hands clutched at where the Ring should have been. But, in the end, he neither saw nor heard the ancient spirit—though occasionally he thought he felt the dead echo of a reply. "He's gone," the albino whispered to himself, slumping to the floor where he had first woken up. "The Ring's gone, and so is Bakura." He closed his eyes and shuddered. "I'm alone."

And for a time, he raged. He cursed fate, destiny, and his father—why did he always end up alone? He cursed the heavens, humanity, and Yugi Mutou—he was tired of being by himself! But most of all, he cursed Bakura and the Ring—for one brilliant moment, he'd had someone, someone who couldn't leave him and didn't want to. Now it was just him, the empty apartment, and his treasures—a painful parallel to his childhood and the relationship he shared with his father. Ryou fell asleep on that floor, still cursing and crying as exhaustion claimed him.

Though the night had been black and grim, when he awoke, the morning was bright and new—his natural reason reasserted itself. He had wanted to get rid of the Ring, had wanted to be free of Bakura's tainting influence. As long as he had worn the mystical item he never would have been able to take it off, the spirit had been too strict and watchful—hell, Ryou had even been punished for just threatening to take the Ring off! Now that he had some clarity and distance from the situation, he realized how lucky he was to be rid of the spirit. Bakura had been interesting company, full of surprises—and lies. The spirit had tried to seduce him away from his friends by saying that he accepted Ryou as he was, but he hadn't really. From the very moment Ryou had donned the Ring, Bakura had tried to change him; he could see that now. Even if it was true that they were the same person, that they possessed the same qualities, Ryou's darkness had been buried, lying dormant. But for reasons of his own, the spirit had wanted that darkness at the fore, had wanted to reshape Ryou into an image that looked something more like what Bakura had been in life.

And Ryou had let him. From the very beginning he had listened to the spirit, had bowed to the ancient's will. In the end, Ryou had willingly dived into that destructive, downward spiral. But now he had been saved—there was no shadow looming over him anymore, no secrets building that he had to keep from his friends. He was freer now than he'd ever been in his life…

So why did it still feel as though he were shackled by grief?
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Ryou went to school the next day, stuck in an erratic haze. Some moments seemed to fly by faster than he could comprehend, while others dragged by in painful slowness. He moved gracefully but mechanically through his morning routine and classes, only seeming to come alive when Yugi confronted him during lunch.

Though he had only been going to Domino's high school for less than a week, Ryou had found he enjoyed eating his lunch on the roof, where he could watch the world from on high. His friends typically ate in the classroom, but today Yugi seemed determined to make contact.

The smaller boy sat down close, not meeting his eyes. "What was it like?"

Not, 'How are you?' or any other expression of concern, Ryou noted darkly. "It was like any sort of temptation," he replied quietly. "I knew it was wrong, but I was too weak to resist it."

Yugi shook his head. "I meant having the Ring taken away."

Ryou's chest tightened. He kept telling himself that he was better off now, that he'd been saved, but it didn't seem to make any difference. "I feel like a drug addict," he admitted. "I know that the Ring and the spirit were trying to corrupt me, that no good could have come from the situation—yet I still mourn their loss, still crave their presence."

"I can't even imagine," Yugi sympathized. "I know I would be a wreck if anyone stole my Puzzle." He fell silent for moment, darting violet glances at the pale boy. "It wasn't right, what you were doing, what the spirit was making you into."

"But I still feel the hole he left behind," Ryou said softly. "Like a gap that can't be bridged; there's suddenly nothing where something had once been. And that nothingness hurts, Yugi."

The smaller boy frowned to himself. "I can't condone any of what you were going through—but at the same time, I don't really know what you were going through." He sighed. "None of this feels right; it shouldn't be up to me who can and can't have a Sennen Item. The Other Me has been a great help in most respects, but I worry about what he did this time."

Ryou closed his eyes. "I want it back, Yugi—I need to wear the Ring, if for no other reason than to get rid of the disturbing silence in my soul."

Yugi shook his head. "I won't help you," he replied. "I worry about the spirit of the Ring. If you want him back, you'll have to get it on your own."

Blue eyes narrowed as he cocked his head to the side. Was Yugi—sweet, innocent Yugi—being subversive? True, he wasn't going to hand Ryou the Ring, but he'd just invited the pale boy to steal it back. Was he in such disagreement with the Other Yugi, or did he just want to be rid of the Sennen Ring?
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Ryou laid awake that night, staring sightlessly at his ceiling. His room was a library of reminders—the vast horde of stolen treasures spilled out across his desk and floor—there was nothing to look at that didn't hold some memory of Bakura, not even the bed he laid on. The pale boy was doing his best to forget, but in the darkness of night he felt the spirit's absence keenly. There was no one to talk to in these quiet hours, no one to share his thoughts with, or to distract him from his solitude. Silence pressed in on him from all sides, until his craving for company, for Bakura, was nearly a physical thing.

Yugi had offered him back the Ring. Perhaps not in such precise language or action, but it had been clear that the shorter boy wasn't going to stop any attempt to reclaim the misplaced Sennen Item. All Ryou had to do was go and get it. It was immaterial that he didn't quite know where Yugi lived, or the fact that he was contemplating breaking-and-entering one of his friends' homes. The important thing was that the Ring could be back around his neck in a few short hours if he was brave enough to go after it.

But then he would be right back where he had started—trapped by the spirit's will, exposed to his tainting corruption. Ryou had wanted to be rid of the Ring and Bakura but, in their absence, he had come to realize that no matter how much he feared their influence, he desired their presence more. In only a matter of days, he had grown to rely on Bakura for companionship, and maybe their relationship was toxic, but it was better than being alone.

The memory of lean muscles flashed in Ryou's mind—the memory of dark blue eyes, short silver hair, and a pale scar. He remembered long legs and an ancient style of dress, but more than that he remembered tanned skin—a great expanse of luscious, smooth skin, marred only by errant scars, following the dips and hollows of his well formed body, wrapping the thief in a beautiful pelt of dusky mocha. Ryou needed to see Bakura again, needed to gaze at the body that was so much like his own, yet so incredibly different.

By the time his thoughts cleared, Ryou was already halfway out of his apartment, wearing the long black coat Bakura had stolen for him. The streets were dark in the hush of deep night, and only the loneliest of souls were out wandering at such a still hour. Ryou didn't truthfully know where he was going, having only a vague idea where Yugi lived, but he walked with confidence and purpose. The dead echoes of the Ring's power pulsed through him, guided him, and he trusted that power—at least, he trusted it enough to steer him wrong. And, since he was only out in order to steal back his Sennen Item, which was the wrong thing to do in this situation, he listened to the faded whispers that crawled weakly through his soul. Under any other circumstance, he would have been terrified at the wordless, tainted instruction he was receiving, but right now he was too desperate to care.

After only a few minutes of silent wandering, Ryou's feet stopped in front of a small building, designed as both a store and a home. The thrill of conquest surged through him; the Ring was here, he could feel it—the only problem was that he didn't know exactly where it was, or how he was going to get it. It wasn't exactly as if he could throw pebbles at Yugi's window and expect the smaller boy to toss the stolen Item down to him. True enough, he could break a window, but that would alert the Mutous of his presence, and he didn't want to add property damage to his list of offenses.

'You're thinking about this all wrong,' Bakura's words from the night before suddenly came back to him. 'How do you normally enter a building?'

"Through the door," Ryou whispered to himself. "But how?" He might have Bakura's lock-picking tools, but he had no idea how to use them; he could waste hours clicking away at the door without ever gaining entry. Still, he had to try.

The small pouch of tools yielded a number of confusing pins and screwdrivers so, with a quiet prayer to whatever misanthropic deity watched over thieves, Ryou chose two at random and set to work. It was difficult at first, since he didn't have the slightest clue what he was doing, but the more he tried to remember what he'd seen Bakura do, the easier it became. Though his mind had no knowledge of lock picking, it seemed his body remembered the motions well enough. After a few deft turns, some cursing, and the heavy slide of the deadbolt disengaging, the blue-eyed boy quietly walked into the shop.

It was silent inside, presumably the inhabitants were sleeping, and no alarm had gone off to alert them to Ryou's presence. Now all he had to do was find the Ring. Merchandise of all sorts stretched before him—games, guides, and collectors' items—but not the one thing he was seeking. Not that he had expected it to be in the store; already knowing about the spirit that possessed the Ring, the Other Yugi would have wanted to keep it close. Which meant only one thing—he had to find Yugi's room.

A flight of stairs led up to the comfy suit of rooms that comprised the Mutou residence. Three hallways faced the intruder, each hallway lined with several closed doors. Ryou felt his heart begin to race—it was one thing to break into someone's home, it was quite another to be caught while doing it—behind any one of those doors could be a person that was willing and able to call the police on him. With a tight swallow, he moved onward; he'd come too far to back away now, even if it landed him in jail. But Ryou's search yielded little, aside from the snoring form of a man so old the albino could only assume he was Yugi's grandfather.

Finally, after an uncomfortably long period of sneaking through the house, the pale boy came to the last door; it had to be Yugi's room. Inside, the short boy in question slept away on his bed, unaware that anyone was intruding. The moment Ryou entered the room, his eyes zeroed in on Yugi's desk—laying unobtrusively on the wooden surface was the Sennen Ring. The round stretch of gold glittered in the pale moonlight that filtered through window, beckoning all who looked upon it. And for a moment, it made him angry—made him angry that he wanted it back so badly, made him angry that it was in Yugi's possession at all.

In a few quick strides, he crossed the room and grabbed the Ring. The second his fingers closed around the gold it seemed to flicker with an inner glow, the sense of extra returned, and Bakura's wicked approval flooded through him. It was one perfect moment of fulfillment, contentment, spoiled only by the fact that the thin cord had been removed from the Ring, keeping Ryou from putting it back on.

Quickly, Bakura urged him, his voice oddly distant, get us home before that ass in the Puzzle discovers what's happened.

Ryou listened, sneaking out of the Mutou house as quickly as he could, then ran back to his apartment. There would be consequences to face in the morning—Yugi would know that he was the one to steal the Ring and the Other Yugi would be angry at that discovery—but, for now, he would revel in his small victory.

The Ring belonged to him, and no one would interfere with that!
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A/N: "What did I do to deserve any of this?" Ryou asked himself… Simple, my dear Ryou—you were Bakura in a past life!

A very large thank you goes out to everyone who has reviewed so far—I really appreciate your comments and encouragements, it's what keeps me updating so quickly. And, as always, many thanks go to KHT and RainRaven4711—for indulging my Yu-Gi-Oh mood and for being wonderful betas.

Please review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or the lyrics by Muse.