Random Relations

Relation Number Two – Yu-Gi-Oh! and Detective Conan

Tee-total

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Bakura Ryou stiffened and tensed yet again as his father tugged once more at his tie. The white-haired teen was dressed up like a penguin in black and white, his Millennium Ring hidden under his dress shirt, deck stashed away in a satchel hung over his shoulder to rest at his other hip, where he could get at them easily if he ever might happen to need them.

It was ridiculous. Perhaps he might usually feel more relaxed in smarter clothes, but he didn't suit . . . well, suits. He couldn't move, he didn't feel like himself, there weren't enough places to hide things, the list could go on and on. His hair was tied back, too, which kept his hair out of his eyes but he was used to it loose, and he liked it loose.

"Remember," his father was saying to him, "to act smartly. Don't fidget." He didn't fidget anyway! Especially after he had learned how to fight from an expert to whom the ability to keep still was an important one! "Don't be too pert or blunt. It's a good thing that you have some good friends now who can take you out of your shell, but keep in mind that this man is taking an interest in the museum first, and is your relative secondly. He also sounded interested in you when I talked to him on the phone, so make me proud, all right?"

Ryou nodded grudgingly, but didn't say anything, didn't make any promises. He couldn't. From all of what he had heard of the man, he already didn't like him.

His father looked him in the eye, slightly nervous and unsure of his son... the son whom he hadn't seen or heard from for most of his life until not too long ago. Convincing himself to be more confident, he nodded, banishing the hesitance that came from his nerves. He was sure that there was something odd. . . different. . . about his boy's eyes, sometimes. He only hoped that it wouldn't cause this meeting to go wrong.

Ryou sighed internally as they went through the large doors and into the foyer of the building that was housing the meeting he and his father had come for. Into the elevator, up to the right floor, out, and – there he was.

Definitely a Bakura relation, he thought sarcastically to himself. It's the hair and the eyes. I think that my branch of the family must be the only ones to escape it. Even then, I still got the hair. . .

((I wouldn't have it any other way, yadonoushi. You know that – and watch what you say about my features. I happen to like those kind of eyes.))

Ryou only mentally rolled his eyes, because to do so physically would be to reveal that he wasn't all normal in the head, talking to himself.

The man had silver-white hair, just like Ryou, but unlike Ryou his was straighter and longer, going all the way down to his lower back, whereas Ryou's own hair was significantly shorter than that. His clothes were nearly all black, except for his shirt and the band around his gangster-stereotype hat. The man's eyes were those of a cruel man, someone who found it easier to hate and see other people from a distance, something that Ryou had thought he had become accustomed to seeing on the inside of his own mind and in his own eyes from time to time, but it seemed like those eyes of his other weren't as bad as this person's. This person looked as though he had killed people easily, in this day and age. His slick smile as he greeted them and held out his hand for the elder Bakura to shake in respect for his half English heritage was cold, a testament to this.

The meeting went by boringly and annoyed both host and spirit to the point where they had started to play a sort of game between themselves; not anything that included Shadows, but rather a sort of I Spy, but instead of things such as 'I Spy something beginning with P' (plant pot), they had somehow started to come up with things such as 'I Spy something beginning with G – glint.' Occasionally, they would have to back up their claims, expanding 'glint' into 'an evil glint in the eye'. The game gave them both more than enough reason to hate or become simply irritated by the man by the time the interview was over.

As James Bakura had expected, however, Bakura Melukior had shown an interest in his distant, many times removed cousin. Ryou couldn't have been less enthusiastic, but had resigned himself to anywhere up to half an hour or an hour's worth of sleep-inducing attempts at trying to get him to go over to the 'Dark Side' . . . or whatever it was that the man called it. It was obvious to Ryou even if it wasn't to his father that the silver-haired man across the table from him was bad news. Family or not.

It was an hour and a half later in the parking bay where the man had led him and his father to their car when Ryou finally snapped, losing his temper with the person who was trying to rope his family into something that wouldn't benefit the museum, would be illegal, and would be more criminal than anything he ever did at nights.

Unthinking, he freely allowed control to his other self, the only restriction being that his father not be able to see or remember what was about to happen. The spirit granted this willingly, giving the excuse that a witness such as James Bakura would be more likely to cause trouble to their daily lives than any other potential onlooker.

The Game was quickly over, Bakura slipping an extremely realistic, very life-like figurine into his pocket with new black clothes and silver hair with a chuckle. It had been too long since he had been able to seal a soul into a playing piece, and this had to be the first one his yadonoushi had willingly agreed to. A new milestone for them.

They were both distracted from their inner musings when they heard the sound of a crash from a nearby area of the car park. Bakura turned sharply to where he had heard the sound, only to find a small boy, of perhaps seven years, staring at him through oversized glasses with what could only be considered as a sort of . . . adoration?

No. It couldn't be.

"You... how did you do that?"

It was.

"That was amazing – I've been trying to get that guy for ages, simply ages, and I've never been able to – so how – who are you-?"

And on went the questions. It didn't help that Ryou was making no move to even stifle his laughter in the back of his mind.

(I think that you have a fan now, mou hitori no boku...)

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AN: They both have silver/white hair. Both are criminals. That's all I needed. This was originally going to be number four.

'Melukior' is simply a bastardisation of the English name for Gin. The official version is 'Melkior', I think. I edited this after someone was kind enough to tell me I'd gotten his and Vodka's names mixed up ^_^;