Disclaimer: Of course they're not mine. I own nothing here except for the plot. Do not sue.
Warnings: Yaoi (boy x boy), possible violence, and my dry humor.
Summary: Bakura and Ryou explores what exactly the Diabound is. BakuraxRyou.

"Shalalalalala" - Speech
/Shalalalalala/ - Telepathy

Diabound

by Crimson Nightmare

Chapter 1 - The Consequences of Curiosity

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'Wickedness is a myth invented by good people to account for the curious attractiveness of others' --- (Oscar Wilde)

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My host believes in the future.

My host is the kind of person that looks eagerly onto each new morning, hoping that the brand new day will be better than yesterday, and through all the goodness and happiness of such a new day, he can shake off the burns and scabs of the past somehow.

"Why do you do evil things, Other Me?" One day he asks me, his hand still on the dough, in the process of making the third batch of butter crisp cookies with me helping him "testing" the final product.

"Why do you do good things, my host?" I raised an eyebrow at him, taking a messy bite out of a random cookie from the second batch that was finally cooled off. He blinked at me, presumably wondering what it is I was truly saying. Cutting the rolled up dough into reasonable-sized pieces, he contemplated my words carefully.

My host believes in the future. I don't believe in anything. If I am to choose something that dominates my life, I would have to be honest with myself and answer that --- it is the past that I have been living in.

I choose to live for the past. I never consider changes and different results of events in the future. Life goes by rules, walks on only the given steps, and never treads beyond what was written in the book of Destiny. Like a game with the sole entertaining purpose to torture you, Destiny waits for you in the end. There are no unpredictable results once you win, and therefore, the winner in life will definitely be granted his wish.

I lost. I lost the game of life when I gave up on my turn of the game. Confused and frustrated, I live here now with my host as my refuge, rest on his sofa, use his TV, and eat his homemade cookies of different flavours.

"Are the things that you do really can be considered as completly evil, Other Me?" My host inquires as he closed the door of the heated, cookie-filled oven. He wipes his hands on a kitchen towel after he washed his hands. I marvel at the level of curiosity he has today.

"Well, you are awfully well in the mood to investigate today..." I don't look at him, and instead mildly chew on my second cookie.

"Sorry." He ducks his head low and comes to the couch. We flip on the TV and watched a pointless cartoon character chasing a grey hare with a club. Mutant herbivores using artificial tools to attack carnivores. The violent things kids get to watch nowadays...

"I must inform you, my host, that to understand what I am is not the best past-time activity. I suggest you find another habbit. Like...knitting...or something." I take another bite on my cookie, biting off the soft, scented centre that was filled with a small circle of strawberry jelly. My host cooks well. If he had been a woman in my time, he'd have been courted the day he was able to wear his first apron. But, of course, he's not.

"Oh." He flips through a few channels and stops to watch another pointless cartoon, containing a yellow bird singing in a cage as a black, skinny-looking cat clawed at it, babbling threatening words. Who makes cartoons? I believe the term to describe this is 'bullying'.

"It's just that..." He fidgets the wiping cloth he had in his hand. "I was just thinking about the...you know...the Ring and those...memories of your past..."

My head jerks up sharply to face him, and he winces a little, afraid that he has finally crossed the line this time. "What makes you think of that?" I narrow my eyes suspiciously at the boy.

"Oh it's..." He quickly shakes his head, as if to emphasize, "It's nothing...I...I was just wondering."

Then we sit in awkward, cookie-feeding silence, as the black cat in the cartoon plots evil plans and cunning traps.

"...Some are, and some aren't."

"Huh?" He asks intelligently.

"The answer to your quesiton: Some actions are completly, reasonlessly evil, and some have their reasons." I grumble.

If he is in the mood for the past, I shall present it to him. I dwell on it, after all. I've long since given up and gave my life into the tortures of Destiny.

"Are you that curious, my host, that even if whatever you find out hurt you or shock you for life?" I grin, just a little bit maliciously. I don't mean to look intimidating, but old habits die hard, and it's more fun to see him squirm.

He glances at my devious little grin and quickly withdrew. "I...never mind. I'm sorry I pried."

He turns to leave. Oh no you don't, my host, if you thought about it, I'm sure as hell going to make sure that you know the whole story. I quickly grab his arm, pulling him against me where the back of his ear is exposed as I hiss low and dangerously against his earshell, "Don't walk away now, my host. You are my chosen master, you have the right to look..."

I give him a gentle shove, putting him back onto the couch, before I dangle my Sennen Ring between us. /I'm going to make you look whether you like it or not./

A/N: I had this done long ago, just wanted to put it up for now. I am somewhat inspired these last few days to start writing again :P

Reviews and constructive criticism are very much welcomed. Though there's no need to tell me I have bad grammer, I know I do. And I'd be very happy if anyone is available for beta for me, because I have no beta.