Hikari: Because of much, much pestering from a close friend, I bring you the next installment in the Closer Than You Think series~! Enjoy.

"Marik, you're going to be late for school! Must I remind you of your duties as an Ishtar?"

The blond rolled over in bed and yanked the covers closer to his skin. It was a cold winter morning and the boy wanted nothing more than to relax in the comfort of his bed.

"I mean it, Marik! Now means now!"

'She's wasting her breath…' But even with this in mind, Ishizu's words dragged him out of his dream state.

What an odd dream he had had too. He remembered a pale boy, a ring, and pain. Lots and lots of pain.

He stood slowly, but froze as he felt something sway across his chest. His violet eyes widened in alarm and he glanced down.

It was the ring, that golden ring with the Eye of Horus like his rod and five identical spikes hanging downward. The rope was on his neck, not on Ryou's. 'No…' That meant… 'No.' that his dream… 'NO!' It wasn't actually a dream.

He raced into the bathroom, past Ishizu and past Rishid, into the bathroom on the other side of the small house. He shoved a few used towels onto the floor and moved his sister's beauty products onto the toilet next to him. The mirror that greeted him after his rushed cleaning job showed it all. That infernal ring was on his neck and had stabbed five holes into his lavender hoodie.

'Five bloody holes…' Marik thought wryly as he took off the garment to inspect the damage. By the time he had yanked it off, it was clear that he'd never be wearing it again. Tossing the soiled scraps into one of the cabinets, Marik noticed that the necklace had actually latched onto his skin. Translation; it wasn't coming off for a long time.

He stared at it in horror, panic suddenly striking him. He gripped onto the circular part of the necklace and, holding his breath, pulled. All at once, a stabbing pain shot through his chest so hard that it forced the tan boy to his knees, tears filling his eyes. 'No, it's definitely not coming off…'

Lost and apparently out of options, he mopped up the blood dripping down his chest as best as he could. As Marik did so, he noticed the shining crimson color of the blood. Though it was bred from pain, his pain to be exact, he couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the particular shade.

The blond was suddenly dizzy, but whether it was from blood loss or some other unknown force, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was sinking closer and closer to the ground until his head reached the cool, tiled floor. His vision soon grew black as he let out a shaky moan.

Something was on his cheek. Something cold, something wet… Water? Rain? A pressure too, against most of his upper body… It shifted slightly as Bakura let out a low moan, sitting up slowly and fighting against the pressure on his chest.

He made it face to face with a blond-haired, tan-skinned male with an abnormally long tongue caressing Bakura's cheek.

"Well, you finally awaken. I thought you would never open those beautiful eyes again!" The tan man's voice held not an ounce of despair, but instead a dark and twisted sort of amusement. Bakura shoved him off roughly, crawling to a stand. He felt lightheaded and found the task much harder than usual.

The room Bakura resided in was dark, but he could make out the edges of the man before him. He was obviously tall, and his hair stuck up in large spikes upon his head. Gold glistened in the blackness, and piercing eyes stared into his own intense eyes. The only difference between the two was this man's violet orbs as opposed to Bakura's red ones.

"Where am I?" he barked to which his reply was only laughter.

"You're quite the impatient one, no?" The blond answered evenly, standing as well. His efforts seemed a lot less strained, making Bakura wonder. "I'll be asking the questions here," he deadpanned suddenly. "What's your name?"

Bakura didn't miss a beat. "If you insist on asking, then I better receive an answer as well. My name is Bakura."

More laughter followed this statement. "You amuse me, so I'll bite. My name, or at least my given name, is Mariku."

Mariku. Marik. Ishtar. Memories were coming back to Bakura. He remembered seeing the Ishtar household through Ryou's eyes and vaguely recalled a blond in the background. Now that he thought about it, Mariku looked very similar to Marik. The only big differences were the spiked hair, the strikingly dark eyes, and a malevolent aura that seemed to follow Mariku around.

"Your last name… Could it possibly be Ishtar?" Bakura asked slowly, trying not to sound as curious as he felt.

"I don't believe in labeling one with such specific names," Mariku replied. "But if I had to have a surname then yes, it is Ishtar."

'So, this is the blond kid? Is it possible that he has a split personality?' The white-haired male nodded to both Mariku's response and his own thoughts. "You have two soul rooms within your mind…" Bakura said partially to himself.

"Yes, the opposing door one belonging to my pathetic other," Mariku replied to the comment. "Though I must say, three tends to be a crowd…"

"I'm not here by choice!" Bakura snapped. "I don't know why the hell I'm here!"

"So… You just woke up and magically landed here?"

"…Pretty much."

Mariku laughed once more, the sound low and throaty. After a moment of this, he grew serious. "I peered into your soul room," he told Bakura who looked slightly shocked. "And saw a malicious hatred emanating from the doors themselves. You are obviously not a kind soul." Mariku said this all in a matter-of-fact tone as if the two were discussing the weather. "Someone like you may prove helpful to me…" he concluded.

"Helpful? How exactly?" Bakura, stuck for the time being, had nothing better to do than put up with Mariku. Besides, he had a hunch that Mariku wasn't going to let him go without a fight and the white-haired male was weak from being in the room for so long.

Mariku leaned on what appeared to be nothing but swirling black fog. "Have you visited the other soul room?" Bakura nodded. "Good. Do you know who resides in there?" Bakura nodded his head once more. "Excellent. I need him dead."

Bakura stared at Mariku, but not out of shock. No, he was used to harming people, and killing wasn't far off. He was, however, curious as to why Mariku was recruiting him for assistance. "Why me?"

"You obviously have a background in murder and seem to enjoy it as well. The real question here is why not?" Mariku replied cooly.

'He has a point.' Bakura found himself nodding like a bobble head. "Why do you want Marik dead?"

Mariku sat cross-legged, and Bakura mirrored the blond. "Who is currently in possession of the physical body, Bakura?"

"Marik."

"Do you think I like that?"

His tone said it all. "No."

"The only way to make sure this doesn't happen is…?"

"To kill him," Bakura finished for him. "If you can kill him within a soul room, his consciousness will fade into nothingness leaving the body an empty shell for you to permanently take over."

"Exactly! Now you see things as I do," Mariku replied to him, smiling wickedly. "And as for you…"

"I have a host," Bakura told him, thinking. "My soul was sealed within an object called the Millennium Ring. The Millennium Items are-"

"I know," the blond cut him off. "I possess one. Cut the crap and get to the important part."

With a glare, he continued. "As I was saying, my host Ryou must have taken off the ring and placed it upon Marik. That's why I appear before you now." A thought struck him. "If Marik were to be dead… And you had the body… And we found a way to get rid of Ryou…" Bakura grinned darkly, his gaze upon Mariku.

"I believe this is the start of a lasting partnership," Mariku finished, cackling to fill the cold, silent room with malevolent sound. Bakura found himself joining in, his hopes high.

'A body of my own in exchange for next to nothing? This is almost too easy!' Bakura thought, his mind misty from the room's aura. His laughter rang out, Bakura's body feeling heavier and heavier by the minute. His eyes continuously drooped, but he managed to stay conscious.

"What do we do now, uh, partner?" Bakura asked eventually, feeling more lightheaded by the minute.

"We wait," Marku said simply and relaxed on the cold, shadow-like floor. "He's coming, I can sense it…"

Ryou felt like a bowl without soup, an Oreo without stuffing, a box with nothing inside. He stared at the wall of his room as he had done for the better half of the previous night. His entire body felt split in two and the eerie silence that filled him mind was maddening.

It was Bakura who usually managed to fill the silence with snide comments about whatever Ryou was doing, complaints about today's society, or something to that degree. Without his yami…

Everything seemed to be colored in dull shades of gray.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Ryou tossed and turned in his bed to try and find a comfortable spot. During the night he usually slept soundly in his soul room, but without Bakura, that was no longer possible to do. One could only visit their soul room if more than one soul resided within their body. Since he no longer had two souls, he was stuck in the physical world.

"Damn it Bakura…"

Yami: Please guys, R&R!

~midknightXXX