Hikari: Hello and welcome to my newest story. I said I'd start writing darker stories, and here is the proof!

Yamie: Warnings: Violence, language, and likely character death.

Hikari: Here's a quick background on the story itself; it's loosely based off a role-play I participate in. The particular conversation was between Mandalovesthedarkone as Ryou and Bakura and me as Marik and Mariku. Manda will also be my lovely beta for this story! Okay, disclaimer time!

Yamie: If someone gave us Yu-Gi-Oh! as a present, we wouldn't mind in the slightest. In fact, we'd adore it! But until then, we don't own it.

Key:

Hi! = Flashback

'Hi!' = Thoughts

Ryou Bakura was cool, calm, and collected that bright Sunday morning. He felt happier than he had felt in a long time. One may even say that he was overjoyed as he skipped down Domino City's busiest street blissfully unaware of the noise and pollution around him. His light blue jacket flew out behind him along with his snow-white hair as he picked up the pace towards nowhere in particular. It was a strange hunch, but he had a feeling today was going to be great.

Cars honked as Ryou frolicked across the street without looking both ways. A red Chevrolet almost ran into the white-haired teen, but luck was on Ryou's side and he escaped uninjured with his pleasant mood intact.

"Hey, watch where you're going, you bratty kid! Maybe I won't put on the brakes next time," an older man with a rather large mustache shouted at Ryou once the red light finally appeared over the signal light. Normally, Ryou would apologize immensely and now was no exception. He didn't mind saying sorry; he was being a bit careless after all.

However, someone else did.

A blinding white light flashed and when it faded, Ryou wasn't the same happy-go-lucky kid he once was. His hair spiked down his back like a serpent and crimson eyes bore into the man's brown ones and stated quite plainly, "What did you say to me?" The man, petrified at the sudden change in attitude, stuttered an apology and almost got hit by the car behind him when the light's signal changed back to green. After he drove away cursing, the new boy standing on the street smirked.

"Filthy mortals… At least it gave me a chance to escape my soul room for a bit." He had no sooner said that when he felt Ryou attempt to seize control of his body once again. Whether the innocent boy realized it or not, he was a true fighter. Despite the crimson-eyed boy's efforts, he was gone in a flash and Ryou was back, panting.

"Damn… He did it again, didn't he?" Ryou wondered aloud. The problem of having his darker side, Bakura, take over his body was becoming worse and worse. It used to happen every few months, or at least that was when Ryou was aware of the change. Nowadays, it happened at least twice a week.

Bakura was the exact opposite of Ryou and didn't care what others thought of him. He also didn't mind harming or killing anyone who got in the way of having his own twisted sort of fun.

Ryou would have been exterminated swiftly and mercilessly if he didn't house Bakura's spirit. Bakura had been doomed to spend eternity within an ancient Egyptian object called the Millennium Ring, a pendant that Ryou now wielded unhappily. His father had gotten him the gift in hope to please his son when all he got in reality was his son's worst nightmare.

Ryou feared the day when he wouldn't be able to fight back against Bakura and would therefore lose his body to him. The chaos he would create… Ryou tried not to think about it.

One thing was certain and had been for a long time now; he needed to get rid of the Millennium Ring and fast. It was slowly eating away at his life. He could feel his mood sinking until the happy feeling he had a few minutes ago was almost dead.

'I need to get rid of this ring! I can't take it anymore!' He mentally screamed and scrunched his chocolate brown eyes shut in the process. Pedestrians glanced over at him, some in poorly concealed secrecy and others openly staring.

With his mood crushed, he decided that going home was the best option. At least he could be miserable without providing a show to random bystanders.

'He ruins everything without even trying… It's like he enjoys tinkering with my life in the smallest of ways to see if he can get a reaction out of me, always has and always will.' He sighed and kicked a pebble into the busy street. 'I hate to say it, but Bakura's ploy is working in his favor.'

What had he been so overjoyed about anyway? He could hardly remember now; the trauma and stress of having Bakura appear once again had wiped his memory. Was it something about getting a high mark in school? Maybe that was it. He had come from there anyway judging by the school bag in his hand, so it seemed like the most likely scenario.

No, it didn't matter now. He needed to focus less on the past and stop hoping for a better solution in the future. The right time to act was now.

'When the sun sets today,' Ryou thought to himself silently. 'He will be out of my life.'

Marik Ishtar had nowhere to go and nothing to do. He had no friends to hang out with, not enough money to buy something fun with, and no motivation to move from his cozy spot underneath a willow tree. It was his favorite place to be simply because it was so quiet and peaceful. About a mile or so from his run-down shack of a house, Marik liked to take every opportunity possible to escape his home life to relax and think. Of course his sister Ishizu would yell at him the moment he returned for being late yet again, but it wasn't like she had the power to do anything else about it. Besides predicting the future every now and then, almost a hobby of hers, she was virtually useless.

The one person Marik had any feelings for, any love for, was his older brother Rishid. He had always respected him in every which way ever since he was small. On a good day when the house's normally chaotic levels were lowered, Ishizu would tell him stories about when he was little and how she would watch Marik follow Rishid wherever he went. The best part of it all was that Rishid never minded Marik's company. In fact, he welcomed it! Ishizu on the other hand…

Marik moved a blond strand of hair out of his eyes in annoyance. Leave it to the wind to mess up his flashback. He stretched and heard a few cracks from his back before standing up satisfied. He had no idea how long he had been sitting there and didn't have a watch to check. By the way the sun was angled in the sky, it was clear that it was getting late.

'Whatever. A bit of yelling never killed anyone.' Marik laughed a bit. 'But I just might go deaf…'

He stood up and smoothed his lavender hoodie, a gift from Rishid for his birthday a year ago. He was ready to leave his tree behind when he realized that something was wrong. Turning back towards the tree, he saw a stick of gold laying on one of the tree's roots. The top of the shaft had the Eye of Horus on it with little bat-like wings sprouting from the sides.

'I almost forgot the Millennium Rod… Then I really would have been in trouble!' Ishizu cared a lot of the object and told him it was a family heirloom. Marik had argued that he didn't want to remember the past and his family, but Ishizu insisted that he needed to keep it with him at all times. He tried asking more about its history a few times, but Ishizu would awkwardly change the subject or give him a list of chores to "keep his mind busy".

He grabbed it and took a second to stare into the eye on top. It was cold and distant, a mere decoration that held so many secrets. It reminded Marik of him. He shook his head violently, blond hair tossed every which way. He didn't want memories to protrude from within his mind, but they rushed in despite his wishes and without warning.

A scream of terror shot out of little Marik's mouth as he stared down at a bruised and beaten Rishid. His father's lips curled in disgust and he kicked Rishid as if he were nothing more than a rag doll. Holding the whip in his left hand tightly, he turned his eyes towards Marik. They were cold and impassive.

"You're next Marik" he stated simply. No emotion except a sliver of superiority. It made Marik sick. He wanted to do nothing more than run away, escape the horror he was seeing in front of .him, but found himself trapped within the small room and shivering. Desperately, he turned to his older sister with tears in his eyes.

"Help him!" Marik screeched as a pulsing pain shot through his head. He gripped it tightly as if it were about to explode. He didn't understand what was going on. Why had Rishid gotten hurt? It was him and Ishizu that had broken the rules, not Rishid. Why was he the one getting hurt?

"Help him, Ishizu!" But she did nothing. All she did was stare at Rishid's body and Marik's growing agony. She made no move to help either of them. Shock hit her too hard to do much of anything.

His father grunted loudly and pulled the whip back to strike once again. Something snapped in Marik's head and he let out a shriek that could have made someone's ears bleed. This pain was suffocating him, taking him far away from reality. He was sinking into a hellish pit with no hand to grab onto for support.

In a flash, his consciousness was simply gone, but someone else had replaced it. Someone so deadly, so cold-hearted and uncaring that it made his father seem like a loveable kitten. He smirked at Marik as they passed each other, one descending and one taking over.

"It'll be okay, Marik. I'll make sure of it." The ghostly figure became more solid as Marik became more transparent. Soon, the strain of keeping awake became too great and Marik slowly let his eyelids fall.

Marik's violet eyes snapped open in shock. Had… Had he dozed off? He found himself on the ground, knees scraped because of a poor landing job and skin filled with small crescent moon shaped scars.

'Nail marks…' He thought bitterly. Despite his efforts, he had lost consciousness. It happened so often now that he could usually predict when a fainting spell was about to hit, but there were always a few exceptions. The days from his past still haunted him just as much, if not more, then last year and the year before that and so on. It was the day that he had awoken and ruined Marik's life. It was also the day when Rishid became his favorite sibling, the one that stood by his side later on and showed no fear.

Mariku, the name Marik invented for him at a young age, had shown no mercy that day. He had threatened to kill Ishizu and Rishid that night.

He actually murdered his father that night.

When Marik had regained control over his body after the dirty deed, he had been lost. Not knowing what else to do with his build up confusion and stress, he let it all pour out into one elongated sob. It was at that moment that he needed help most, the one time when he couldn't fend for himself like usual and get over his issues. He truly needed help and it was Rishid who had offered it to him. Ishizu kept her distance out of fear and paid the price for that action. She became the bossy mother of the house since she was the only woman left alive in his family, and Rishid became the working man. Marik's only job was to go to school and bring home decent grades so he could help his siblings with bills in later life. At least, that's what Ishizu drilled into his head daily.

Even with Rishid's comfort, Marik could never forget about Mariku. He was so fearful of him that he refused to speak his name. Marik believed that names held power and every time his name was said, it gave him more control of their shared body. To Mariku, Marik was nothing more than a vessel to hold his state of mind until he drove him insane and squashed his consciousness down into nothingness. It was clearly his goal, and he was succeeding at it. Every time Marik had one of those flashbacks, it was caused by Mariku. It was one of many ways to slowly drive Marik off-edge.

It worked well.

There were so many questions Marik had about Mariku, the more prominent one being about his identity. Who exactly was he? Who was he to Marik?

Marik pulled his head out of the clouds and took a look at the sky again. It was getting dark and looked to be about dinnertime. He stood up once again, stretched to his heart's content, and began walking down the dirt path towards his house. The rod was tucked safely in one of his back belt loops.

'I could just throw the Millennium Ring into a lake! No, Bakura would predict that and stab those pointed edges on the ring into my chest like usual… Why is this so hard?' Ryou was failing miserably at coming up with a sufficient idea his other half wouldn't be able to guess. It needed to be unpredictable and quick, almost like a reflexive action. He pulled his long pale fingers through his hair in annoyance as he continued his stroll. He was currently walking up a dirt path, the one that led to the old willow tree he sometimes sat by. He had stopped doing it after a while because he noticed that Marik hung around there a lot as well.

"Marik…" Oh, how that name made him think.

Ryou knew little about Marik Ishtar and preferred to keep it that way. From what he heard from other classmates, he was an antisocial lump that had a lot of personal issues. Basically, it was a warning to stay away from him at all costs. No one knew exactly what was wrong with him, but he did some crazy things in class sometimes. Just last week, he had called the teacher an asshole when she yelled at him for writing, "Go to hell," on his class work and nothing more. When sentenced to detention, he had cackled and then fallen to the floor unexpectedly. A few seconds later, he stood up and asked what the class work assignment was even though she had said it a few minutes ago. When told this along with a question of why he had been on the floor, his eyebrows scrunched up and he told her with a serious face that he had no idea what she was talking about. People put this aside as him trying to get a reaction out of the teacher, but Ryou thought it was a bit more complex than that.

It was almost as if Marik was two people, one side a demon and the other side a frightened puppy. Ryou just wasn't sure which one Marik was.

His head shot up suddenly as a familiar purple-clad boy made his way towards Ryou. 'Well speak of the devil,' Ryou thought in amusement as Marik slowed to a stop in front of him.

"Hey," Marik mumbled.

"Hey." Ryou and Marik lived close to each other, very close in fact. The only thing that separated them was the willow tree and field in between their houses. Because they were neighbors, Ryou had done his best to be nice to Marik. He came over sometimes to borrow an egg for baking, a hobby of his, or stay for dinner even though he could tell by the house's appearance that they needed every penny they got. Ryou's dad was in Egypt now, as he usually was, and entrusted the Ishtars to help look over Ryou in his absence.

The Ishtars knew about Ryou's ring and knew Bakura vaguely. All they pieced together was that Ryou and Bakura came together in the same package and that the mention of his name made Ryou twitch. They didn't know anything else about the matter and the family did their best to avoid the subject. For Rishid and Ishizu at least, it was an easy task because they did it so much with the mention of Mariku.

"Heading home?" Marik asked in a bored tone.

The white-haired teen shrugged and cocked his head towards the tree. "Were you there again?" He always went there when something was troubling him, a sign that Ryou picked up on naturally.

Marik's eyes glowed fiercely and he shoved Ryou without thinking. He didn't even want to think about those memories, let alone talk about his problems with someone who didn't care about him. Marik figured the only reason Ryou said hi to him in the first place was so he seemed like a kind-hearted boy to everyone else. He had the strangest feeling that Ryou wasn't all rainbows and hugs deep inside.

"What was that for?" Ryou shouted and stood to brush off the dirt on his pants.

Marik needed to think about this question. 'Why did I do that?' He already knew the answer though; pent up aggression at his thoughts, situation, and all in all, life. Not that he'd tell Ryou any of this. He hardly knew the kid anyway. Sure he came over sometimes, but Marik made sure he was either gone until the boy left or just didn't talk to him in general. Not even encouragement from Rishid to be more social helped him shake the bad feeling he got whenever he was around Ryou.

"Just because," he answered vaguely. He eyed Ryou's pendant curiously. It looked a lot like his rod… "What's that? Where'd you get it?" he questioned, jabbing a finger towards the Millennium Ring. 'Does that somehow tie in with my rod? No, that's ridiculous. It's a mere coincidence…'

Ryou looked down and saw that the ring was indeed hanging out from his school uniform. 'It must've fallen out when he pushed me…' he thought to himself. It usually stayed hidden under his clothes. Suddenly, an idea formed in the white-haired teen's head. He had no time to think, just to act. Now was his only chance.

"You like it so much? Well, take it!" With that, Ryou did the unspeakable. In a split second, he lifted the rope that held the ring and threw it around Marik's neck. All at once, there was a blinding flash of light intertwined with Marik's shouts of bewilderment and pain. Ryou stood there and simply watched feeling strangely hollow inside. It was like he tore off a chunk of his being and threw it far, far away.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was truly seconds later, Ryou watched the Millennium Ring embed it's perimeter into Marik's chest, the boy still screaming. 'Tough luck, Marik. It's a bitch to get out!' Ryou knew that being pleased was wrong, but he was finally free of Bakura! After years of torment and stress and fear of losing his body, it was finally all over! What wasn't joyful about that?

"Have fun with Bakura, Marik," Ryou said happily. "Because of you, I never have to deal with him again!" He cackled and sounded like someone was choking him. 'Ryou, show no regrets,' he commanded himself sternly. In order to avoid helping Marik as was his nature to do so, he turned and hightailed away leaving the blonde to convulse on the ground alone.

Darkness swirled around the area in an intricate pattern. Its complexity almost made up for the emptiness that was the rest of the never ending space. From within the room, the soul room, a white-haired teen very different from Ryou sat. His crimson eyes snapped open immediately and he stood cautiously.

'What did Ryou do?' Bakura thought, panicking slightly. He couldn't feel the boy's soul anymore, something that had never happened before. Now he felt two souls, two very different souls indeed. One was filled with anguish and the other was purely demonic. 'Well, this will definitely be an adventure…' He thought sarcastically.

'Let's see what my other self has gotten me into…'

"What…?" Marik was feeling dizzy. He could feel that he was on the ground again and almost blamed it on his other self when a sight before him made him stop dead in his tracks.

Blood was pouring from somewhere on Marik. Everything hurt, so he had no idea where it was coming from. All he knew was that there was a lot of it. He tried to sit up, but paused at a voice in his head.

'What the hell did he do this time?' The blonde's head shot up as he recognized the voice.

Mariku was awake from within Marik's soul.

Confused and panic-struck, Marik sat up with a burst of adrenaline and looked down at the necklace Ryou had thrown on him. He could see sharp points digging into his chest as deep as they could manage. He bit his tongue to hold back a shriek of pain as he tried without success to yank the ring out.

"W-what's happening to me?" He could feel a splitting headache erupt from his skull as he tried to stand up. He fought the pain and managed to get completely upright. It was ridiculous that no one had walked by the road yet; it was a fairly common route to go. How late was it?

Marik's very essence stung as he half limped and half crawled his way home. He was very unstable and fell down more times than he could count on a single hand. Every pebble he dragged his stomach over in order to stand irritated his bloodied chest more. Finally, after what felt like hours, the moon hung in the sky and he was leaning against the frame of his house. Now came another question; how to explain all this to his siblings. Even he didn't get what was happening! Banging his head against the wall in frustration, he pulled the key from underneath the welcome mat and opened the door with trembling hands. He expected Ishizu to run in furious or Rishid to look up from a book that he always seemed to hold, but was greeted by silence.

Marik was worried and searched the house for a note of some sort. Luckily, his house was small but unluckily, it was filthy. Despite Ishizu's attempts at keeping it clean which worked for her and Rishid's bedrooms, Marik's room and the rest of the house was more a pig sty than a living space.

"That's the price I pay for being so messy in the past…" he mumbled. Even speaking hurt his chest and just when he gave up on the search, he found the note taped to his door. It said, "Rishid got a promotion in work today. He got a bit of extra cash too. We're going out to celebrate and won't be home until late. You wouldn't like the restaurant anyway. There's some food in the pantry if you're hungry and we'll bring home a special breakfast for you tomorrow. Enjoy, love Ishizu." Marik rolled his eyes. "Leave it to her to take his reward and force him to share it. He deserves to pick where to spend it!" But he didn't care enough to continue the thought. Instead, he dragged himself into his room and flopped onto the lumpy mattress.

"This had better be gone by tomorrow, this whole thing." He was still hoping it was a dream or a hallucination. This couldn't be happening. It made no sense. It was just a necklace for Ra's sake! "Good night," he said to no one in particular.

It was after that moment that things took a turn for the worst.

Marik could have sworn that right before he fell asleep, two voices had responded to him. One voice was laced with care but masked it under a harsh tone while the other was downright sarcastic. He had no time to ponder this as sleep overtook him.

It was dark, foggy, and cold in Bakura's soul room that night. Sure, it was always like that, but there was something else that bothered him. There was an air of mystery wafting through the walls. It didn't scare the white-haired teen in any way.

It annoyed him to no end.

He stood and stretched before walking a few paces to the left of the space. The door that greeted him was ice-cold and metallic. He shoved it open and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Bakura had been right about Ryou being up to something. His first clue was that there wasn't one other door in the hallway he stood, but two. Getting a closer look, neither of them looked remotely like Ryou's lightly colored one. No, they were both charcoal and splattered with crimson. The only difference was that one door had a knife leaning next to it.

"Interesting… The door of one's soul reflects his innermost thoughts, views, and personality."

He made a beeline for the door without the weapon only because he figured they'd be weaker than whoever resided in the other and therefore easier to manipulate if necessary. When he entered, however, he was disappointed to see that no one was in there. Not only that, the space itself was nearly empty.

"That must mean that whoever resides here is in control of the body I've been placed in! Perfect, I'll seize control of it and sort through this whole mess in the outside world." He closed his eyes to concentrate, as he normally did with Ryou's body, and tried to extend his mind beyond the limits of his soul form. Though it was usually a simple task, he found that he just couldn't do it. Of course that didn't stop him from trying. When twenty minutes passed, or at least that was what it felt like, he finally gave up in irritation. This body was just too hard to maneuver.

He exited the room feeling more confused than ever. Where had Ryou stuck him and why couldn't he take over their body? Entering the hallway of soul room doors once again, he eyed the knife suspiciously. Like the door, there was red dripping from its tip. Whether it was paint or blood, Bakura didn't care to find out. Pushing a nervous feeling from his stomach, one that he was ashamed to think about, he pulled the door open. It creaked loudly like it hadn't been opened in ages.

"What the…?" Bakura whispered as he took in the room.

It was surprisingly similar to Bakura's soul room meaning that it wasn't a happy place to be. The area in front of him was pitch-black minus the portion of light coming from the opened door. Though it was difficult to see in front of him, Bakura could make out curls of fog coming from somewhere within the space.

Not a single noise penetrated the silence that Bakura heard. Oddly, he was having trouble breathing in the enclosed space and the room was soon filled with his gasps for breath.

Before he could think, or even comprehend what was going on, he was on the floor. Had he fallen? No, he would have realized if that were the case. He had been shoved onto his back. A flash of blond and the twinkle of violet reflected in Bakura's eyes. He could feel himself being dragged by the neck of his shirt deeper and deeper into the strange room.

His eyes drooped as he heard someone murmur, "You may sleep now, stranger. You deserve a rest for surviving in my soul for such a long time." The voice was stronger than any sleep-inducing drug, yet soft and airy at the same time.

Unknowingly obliging, Bakura's body grew limp in his captor's hold.

Hikari: R&R! Also, if you want to see any pairings in this story, I'll keep an open ear towards suggestions. Until next chapter!

~midknightXXX