Of course i don't own YuGiOh, shame.

Just Let Me Burn

Sing when you hurt~

"And you think this boy will give us an advantage against him?" The white haired teen asked. He stared sceptically at his partner in crime.

The other nodded, "yes, well wether or not he is useful, they have been searching high and low for him." The other boy growled theatenly at him, "listen, if he is special in any way, we can't take that risk, just get him!"

The white haired boy scowled, looking at the photograph in his hand. "And you have found him, you say?"

"Yes, Bakura, that is what I said."

Bakura grunted before nodding, "fine, but this turns out to be a whole wad of shit, it's your neck on the line, Malik." He turned sharply and sauntered out of the room with a bang of the door.

Malik just smiled even after Bakura was long gone.

"Idiot Malik, sending me, ME, of all people, to fetch a boy from a place like this," Bakura complained to himself as he stood before a door that opened to a stair leading to a large basement. "Hmph."

He knocked rather loudly three times before crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently. Door was placed in the middle of a trash filled alley, as they always were, there was a click of the lock and a ratty looking man peeked out to inspect the taller teen.

He was rather old and did have the some what features of a rat, squinty and prying. "Boy, what do you think you're doing here? Hmmm?"

"You were supposed to be expecting me," Bakura spat out aggravated. "The Ishtar sent me."

The little mans beady eyes flashed brightly, "Oh the man with money, for the other. Yes I have been waiting… are you his…" he paused to fish out the right word. "Servant? Perhaps?"

Bakura explode with laughter, "Like HELL I am!" He looked fiercely at the rat. "His hand maybe, if I feel generous."

"I see," said the rat, keeping an eye on Bakura. "Well boy, what are you looking for on this fine Slave Market? Hmmm"

"A Boy," the teen stated.

"Oh? Not a girl for you?" the rat sneered.

Bakura glared daggers at him, "No not a girl, and definitely not for me."

"Hmmm, okay don't get to worked up, it was just a question," the rat rose his arms in defence. "Anything in particular?"

"Yes," Bakura said. "A boy with white hair, around my age."

"Hmmm, we may have some like that," the man thought, he tapped him chin. "Yes if so come this way." The rat turned and walked down a poorly lit corridor, past many locked doors on either side. The place looked like some thing out of a medieval movie, mouldy floor and cobwebbed ceiling, sick.

He came to a stop, pulling out a set of keys, flipping through then before nodding and placing one in the lock. "This room is full of boys around your age, if you find one, just call I'll be standing right here. Hmmm" the rat gestured for Bakura to enter the room.

Bakura nodded and stepped in side, scanning the room that was lit even more poorly than the hallway. Inside was a large hall of cages filled with boys stark naked. Some had sheets or rags to cover themselves and others were not so lucky, having to be seated in the dirt of the cage floor. Bakura scrunched his nose in disgust.

'You think they would be better taken care of,' he pitied them. Some stared at him with hesitation, others lay disregarding him and some cowered in the corner of their cage. Nope not that one… or him… or him… ah.

He stopped dead in his tracks, narrow his eyes at the cage at the end of the room, there sat a boy, sheet spread across his lap and staring at his hands, with long white hair fanning down his back and a pale complexion like the moon. He wandered over to the boy slowly, his head tilted in awe.

This boy was beautiful; everything about him was pure and almost glowed with light. He kneeled down in from of the cage containing the beauty, and waited for him to move. The smaller white teen flinched on the approach and bit by bit lifted his eyes to meet Bakuras. They where a splendid chocolate brown that meet the dried blood eyes.

Bakura gazed at the boy in marvel. He was gorgeous, his eyes didn't just look at him they saw through him, searching every corned in his mind, eyes that saw everything.

"Boy, what is your name?" Bakura asked.

The boy opened his mouth uncertainly before saying. "It's…it is curtesy that you give your name first before asking another…um, don't you t-think?" the boy spoke, his voice so smooth and feminine, with the slight hint of a British accent.

Bakuras eye twitched, no one had ever… well, when he asked others their name they gave him their name, when he asked for their valuables they shrieked and gave him them. But this boy…

"My name is Bakura touzokuou," he ground out. "And what is your name?"

"Ryou Bakura," the boy answered with a small smile. "Are you going to buy me?"

Bakura nodded, straightening up. "OI!" he shouted at the door at the other side of the hall. The little man appeared instantly and scuttled down to them.

"Boy, did you fine the one you want?" the man asked.

"Yes, this one," he said pointing at the boy named Ryou. The rat pulled out his keys and unlocked the cage door. He bent in and attached a… leash to the boy. Bakura hadn't noticed it before but there was a white collar with a gold ring on it, around the boy's neck.

Ryou gathered the sheets around his waist and walked out of the cage, standing to his full hight he was a couple of inches shorter than Bakura.

Silently they walked back to the entrance, stopping to exchange money and what not.

"It's a fine one you picked," the rat stated. Receiving the money handed over by Bakura.

Bakura grunted. An idea popped in his head, "say, are there anymore people that work here?"

"Yes," the rat answered wryly. "The shift will be changing in an hour and the boss always comes in the afternoons."

Bakura nodded, pulling a gun from his back pocket. Pointing the barrel at the little man, he grinned maniacally, "Send him my regards."

The rat shrieked before silenced by the bang of the gun.

Bakura grabbed Ryous hand and pulled him up the stairs and out the door.

"What was the point of doing that?" Ryou whispered, his voice trembling.

"Don't know," Bakura said. Running down the alley, he stopped next to a mini skip and pushed Ryou against the wall. "Give me the sheet."

Ryous eyes widened in shock, "What?"
"Give me the sheet you're wearing," he demanded. Grabbing a fist full of it and tugged.

"No!" Ryou yelped. "No No No!" Tearing the sheet out of Bakuras grasp.

Bakura hissed angrily and pushed Ryou harder into the wall. "Listen boy, I know what I'm doing, and if god forbid you're thinking I'm going to rape you, than you are severely wrong!" He growled and ripped the sheet off of Ryou, and turned stepping away. "Stay here, I will only be a minute. And if you do try to run, I will kill you."

Bakura stride away. Ryou watched before sliding down the wall and curled into a ball. He wondered what he had done to deserve this, why the gods had handed him to this man… this boy like a demon. Why couldn't he have a normal life and not sold by his father to pay bills?

Ryou flinched hearing footsteps approaching, he whimpered and curled in on himself more.

There was a clear of the throat and heavy material placed on his shoulders. Ryou looked up at the white haired teen staring down at him.

"There see, no raping. What I just did was nowhere near that," Bakura said.

Ryou looked at the material on his shoulders, it was a large brown jacket that looked old but would reach past his knees. He looked up at Bakura again, "Where did you get this?" thinking Bakura had killed some else, but there wasn't any blood.

"I swapped the sheet for the jacket with a homeless down the alley. He was happy, his name was Dave," Bakura rambled looking away. Ryou stood up and swang the jacket on, buttoning up the front.

Bakura seized Ryous hand again and started to walk. Ryou looked over the other white haired teen; Bakura was tall and lean, thin like Ryou but had muscles, not butch like a body builder, no more something lean like a cat. His hair was messed to the extreme that it stuck out everywhere and his canines were rather prolonged.

"Where are you taking me?" Ryou asked curious.

"My apartment and then tomorrow to headquarters, like Malik asked," Bakura said. He turned a corner to the right and proceeded to the mains street at the end.

Ryou panicked stopping in his tracks, "Ah, I can't go out there only wearing a jacket."

Bakura rolled his eyes, "No one will notice, besides we're catching a taxi."

Ryou took a moment before stepping forward. "Okay," he said softly.

Bakura strolled out of the alley with the boy in tow, ignoring the stares of others. It was hard to come by two nature white haired people, even one was rare. He flung out his hand hailing a taxi, it parked in front of him allowing the two to climb in. after exchanging pleasantries and the address, Bakura looked over to Ryou, who was fidgeting nervously.

"Hey," he called Ryou. The white haired looked at him attentively. "Let's play 20 questions, coz I doubt that you will answer me without questioning me," he stated unenthusiastically.

Ryou nodded unsure.

Bakura smirked, "Alright, how old are you?"

"17 years old and you?"

"I'm 18," Bakura said looking out the window. "Why were you in a slave market?"

Ryou tensed, a sad look appearing in his eyes, "My father… sold me to pay the bills, they were tremendously over due." He sighed, "Oh well, it's the past."

Bakura frowned narrowing one eye in thought. "How long have you been there?"

The smaller blinked, thinking for a second, "What month is it?"

"… August…" Bakura answered bewildered at the boy.

"6 months then," Ryou grimaced. I probably stink… he thought. No showers for that long will do that. "Why did you buy me?"

Bakura grunted, "Coz I was told to." He was stunned on the inside but didn't let it show. "What's with your accent?"

"Eh?" Ryou squeaked taken aback. "My accent? I'm British after all. I was born in London, England and moved here 2 or 3 years ago."

Bakura nodded, leaning against the car door, his temple resting against the glass. He wondered how a parent could do that to a child, his parents had been loving and kind, to the extreme of wrapping him and his brother in bubble wrap to keep them from harm. That was, until they were brutally murdered in front of him. He knew exactly who murdered them but unfortunately that man was already dead. Bakura had been around 5 years old at the time.

"Bakura?" The younger whispered.

"Hmm?" Bakura hummed tiredly.

"I… I feel I should thank you," Ryou said. "Thank you for taking me away from there." He smiled pleased at Bakura. Ryou wasn't sure but he thought he saw a small smile flicker in Bakuras lips. The car came to a halt outside of a large apartment block. It looked fancy and over expansive for an 18 year old like Bakura, so Ryou wondered how he could afford to live in there.

He followed close behind Bakura, scanning the building in awe. "Bakura, you live here?"

The older teen glanced over his shoulder at the boy and grinned smugly, "Of course I do, I don't live in the dumps if that's what you were expecting."

Ryou frowned, "Well no. But not something as … extravagant as this." He hurried in to the elevator and stood against the wall. Bakura pressed the number for floor 20, he leaned back and stared at the smaller of the two.

Ryou noticed and a redness dusted his cheeks. "Bakura, why do you keep staring at me?"

Bakura made a sound like the clearing of the throat before shifting his eyes to the elevator dial. "Do you think I shouldn't?"

Ryou was stunned. "I don't know… I guess it doesn't matter if you do," he said in a soft voice. "Or is there something not right with me?"

"No."

Ryou opened his eyes not realising when he had shut them, he smiled, "That's good."