Title: Yami No Christmas Carol

Who it is for: Ryou VeRua

Rating: T

Characters/Pairings: Bakura/Ryou/TKB/Zorc/Christmas Spirit

Warnings: Meta and Madness

Word Count: 2600

Summary: On Christmas Eve, Yami Bakura is visited by three ghosts, each of them trying to convince him to become a more social animal at christmas time...

Yami no Christmas Carol

Bakura settled into his bed, the cold air of Christmas Eve biting into him even beneath the thick embrace of the bed-clothes. He pulled his nightcap tighter, covering his ears with it and grinning as he took stock of the day.

A quick jaunt through the town, picking up some gifts while he was at it. He'd wrapped them almost as soon as he'd returned home, even taking the time to write out the labels.

"Dear Bakura, Merry Christmas. Love, Bakura."

Once morning rolled around, he'd be able to dive into that new coat he'd bought himself, as well as that brand new Duel-Disk he just couldn't have left behind. Yes. Tomorrow was going to be a good day. His eyelids pressed themselves closed, tighter and tighter, becoming heavy as he began to doze off. He was only vaguely aware of a far-off clock chiming one o' clock...

The Ghost of Christmas Past

At first the light seemed soothing to the spirit of the ring. The way it seemed to hum about his dozing form was vaguely pleasant. It was a sensation that didn't last long... Within moments he had grown irritated by the way it had robbed him of sleep. It seemed to seep through his eyelids and invade his brain, driving him to rise from his bed.

"What the hell is this!" He shouted out loud as he sat up, turning towards the origin of the light. His anger turned to confusion and quickly back again when he saw Ryou, his landlord standing in the doorway. The boy was dressed in his "Change of Heart" get-up once again, and a pearly light seemingly radiated from within his body. "And who exactly gave you permission to manifest in the middle of the night and wake me up?" The spirit demanded, his teeth grit in sleep-deprived rage.

Through the fog of his brain, he slowly started to realise that something wasn't quite right. If his landlord was here, then why would he still be in charge of the body? Bakura thought he had figured out the entirety of their pseudo-time-share arrangement long ago. Was the boy breaking the rules somehow? Was... Was that a bad thing?

"I... Am the Ghost of Christmas Past." Ryou said, in a voice not entirely his own. It had an ethereal, hollow edge to it. It sounded like the air itself was stealing portions of each word and whisking them away, leaving just some sort of skeleton for Bakura's ears.

A long silence. Bakura remained in bed, silently weighing up whether or not trying to go back to sleep would banish this particular apparition.

"You're the Ghost of Christmas Past?" He asked, frowning at the boy. He wasn't sure what he was playing at, but it had gotten irritating before it had even started.

"That's me."

"And you just happen to look like my Landlord because...?"

"I have chosen a form that you will recognise and trust Bakura. By taking the form of Ryou, I wish to put you at ease."

Another long silence. Bakura kicked the blankets away and made to leave the bed.

"Y'know," He said, getting to his feet, "If you really are the... uh... Ghost of whatever... Then I should probably point out that appearing in someone's bedroom disguised as a teenage boy in a dress is usually a bad way of putting them at ease..."

"I have come to show you the error of your ways, Bakura!" the Ryou spirit announced, spreading his arms wide.

"And what errors would these be?"

"I have come to show you that you must share your christmas with everyone. Your selfish desires shall be your unmaking." The spirit extended one hand, inviting Bakura to take it. The spirit was reluctant at first, finally giving in when he realised the sooner he was done here, the sooner he could get back to sleep. "Come with my Bakura, to the Christmas... Of Yesterday..."

There was no real showy, magical effect. No rushing as the earth turned, and no change of scenery. All that happened to give even the vaguest hint at the passage of time was that the light in the bedroom became natural sunlight, rather than the ghostly glow from within Ryou's robes.

"Your amazing power is to make it morning?" Bakura asked, not letting go just yet. "And thus remove any chance I might have of a proper night's sleep?"

"Behold Bakura," The ghost intoned, pointing over Bakura's shoulder with its free hand. Bakura followed the gesture, seeing the real Ryou sitting at his desk, wittling a new miniature from a block of wood. Over his shoulder, Bakura recognised himself in hazy, half-formed spiritual shape leaning against the wall.

"There are two of me here?" Bakura shouted, rubbing his hands together, "Fantastic! The mayhem we could cause if we put our heads togeth-"

"You will find that difficult, Bakura," The Ghost told him. "We are in the past now. Those that you see will not be able to notice your passing, nor will they be able to hear a word you say..."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nothing at all."

Bakura tested the idea by waving his hand in front of his double's face, pressing close and wafting the fingers through the spirit's hazy features. Not a single reaction. He almost jumped with the spirit began to speak, walking forwards and phasing through him.

"What's got you down in the dumps?" He asked Ryou, leaning right over the boy to look at his handiwork.

"It's nothing," Ryou responded. Bakura could clearly hear the drone of despair in the voice.

"Rubbish!" His double said, picking up one of the models and turning it around in his fingers. "You're all upset because it's Christmas again and you've got no friends to share it with."

"I-I... I was going to send Amane a christmas card later." Ryou gave by way of an explanation. "Maybe see if she'd like to visit?"

"Even I think that's a little creepy," Bakura told him, putting the model down and almost screwing it into place. "So, you know what I think we should do? I think we should make our own Christmas festivities right here. We can even have a little game..." He chuckled as he snapped his fingers, the wooden dolls in front of Ryou springing to life as the souls of all the boy's former friends trapped within them took control. They slowly began to disappear, teleporting onto the vast gaming board in the next room. "Come on, what do you say?" Bakura had a sing-song tone to his voice, it was a little frightening. "Let's see if everyone together can bring down Zorc eh? Dinner tomorrow says they won't even get him down to half health points..."

The scene faded away as Past Bakura and Ryou drifted off into the next room to enjoy their game. Soon it was just the true Bakura and the Ghost standing in the same spot. The bedroom was dark once more, lit by a dwindling glow from the Ghost's robes.

"Do you see, Bakura?" It asked him, "By sharing your christmas with Ryou, you were able to both enjoy yourselves more so than either of you could have alone."

"Yes, yes I remember that evening," Bakura chuckled, "They barely even made it into the keep. The whole lot of them were destroyed just in time for Turkey." He gave a loud houl of laughter.

"Yes... well..." The Ghost began to fade away, leaving a faint residue of its light behind as the only evidence it had existed. "Not exactly the way I would have celebrated christmas, but... Oh well, perhaps the next Ghost will have a little more luck..." Within moments, Bakura was once again, left alone in the bedroom...

The Ghost of Christmas Present

That same far-off clock chimed two o clock, breaking the trance that had befallen the Spirit of the Ring. He shook his head, blinking to get rid of the spots behind his eyes left by the first Ghost's light show. Idly, he wondered if there would be a chance now for him to get back into his bed an-

There was a knock on the door.

Bakura gave a ragged sigh, not even bothering to change from his bed clothes before he swung the door open, once again being almost blinded by glaring light. This time, however, it was a golden sunrise, peering over the buildings of Domino City and flooding its street with amber light. Silhouetted in his doorway, was a peculiar sight.

Tall and powerful of build, the expanses of his skin that weren't covered by his crimson robes was a deliciously dark shade. His light hair fell unchecked around a scarred, grinning face. The King of Thieves was in Bakura's doorway... Atop a horse.

"Uh... Can I..." Bakura paused, his eyes jumping between the rider and his mount and back again. "Can I help y-"

"Ghost of Christmas Present!" The Thief King announced, punching out one arm, upon which rested a bright red outfit with a fluffy white trim. "Put this on and come with me if you want to live!"

The horse-mounted journey wasn't as unpleasant as Bakura was expected, being made all the more comfortable by the extra padding in the Santa costume that he had been instructed to wear. The horse clattered through the streets, charging down side alleys and vaulting over cars in its mad dash to reach its destination, drawing stares from every direction.

"I have a question," Bakura asked, struggling to be heard over the rush of the wind.

"Fire away!" The Thief King answered, flashing the same toothy grin.

"You're the me from Ancient Egypt... right?"

"Correct! Well.. Sort of. That's the form I've taken anyway."

"And you're the ghost of christmas present?"

"That's correct again!"

"Wouldn't it have made more sense," Bakura said, finding himself oddly philosophical given his current actions. "If you had been Christmas Past? I mean, you are from the past after all."

The Ghost of Christmas Present chuckled, urging the horse onwards with a harsh kick. "I understand your confusion. It's a two-fold reason really. Firstly, when the jobs were getting handed out to us Ghosts, I saw where we would get to go in the present, and I seized the chance. You'll understand later!"

"And what's the second part of the reason?"

"The writer felt that I embodied more of the qualities of the original Ghost of Christmas Present. It wasn't until later, once they'd actually started writing this fic, that they realised it would have been a lot easier to just do it the way you said."

"Is that some kind of meta reference?" Bakura asked.

"Sort of. Did it work?"

"Seemed a little clumsy."

"Well just be thankful you weren't called Ebenezer Bakura in this revision. And I- Wait a minute! We're here!" The Theif King Ghost brought the horse to a stop, hopping down from the saddle and helping Bakura down quickly before wildly pointing at a huge building ahead of them. "That mansion there is what we came for, Bakura!" he shouted triumphantly, "I'm going to show you the error of your lone-wolf ways the only way I know how. Now follow me!"

The two of them wandered to the front door, finding it (almost) unlocked...

~Forty-five (Drink-fuelled) Minutes later~

Bakura stumbled from room to room, waving at random guests as they passed him. The Ghost had dragged him into some kind of fancy Christmas Party for Domini city's rich elite. Men and women in exquisite clothing swanned about and chatted, chuckling as they saw the Santa-garbed Bakura drunkenly rambling through the building.

"Santa!" A shrill voice cried out, forcing Bakura to stop in his tracks and look downwards, right into the eyes of an indignant looking young boy, hands on his hips and cheeks puffed out.

"Hohoho!" Bakura slurred, "And what can Santa do for you today young boy?"

"Save it Santa!" The boy shouted, "I wanted a new bike for christmas! I've gone through all my presents and it isn't there! You were supposed to bring my a bike Santa!"

The child looked to be on the verge of a biblical-scale tantrum, rage boiling behind his young eyes. Bakura did the first thing that came to mind. He knelt down, looking the boy in the eye.

"Now, you see, young man," He started to explain, his words still thick with free wine. "While it may seem that you've been unfairly treated in not receiving your bike. You're overlooking one small thing."

"And what's that?"

"I'm Santa." Bakura's voice rather quickly changed to its more menacing setting. "I know where you sleep..." He smiled and patted the boy on the shoulder, rising and going on his merry way, leaving the child to figure out whether he should start crying in terror or not.

~One Horse-centric escape from the police later~

Bakura and the Thief King ghost stumbled into the inner grounds of the cemetery with a roar of laughter. Somewhere along the way they had lost their horse, but the Ghost himself didn't seem all that phased by it. Perhaps he had come to terms with the transient nature of a spirit's mode of transport. Or it could be that he figured he could simply buy another horse thanks to all the silverware he had lifted from that house while Bakura had made an excellent Santa-shaped distraction.

"Ah, the screams, the shouts, the sirens!" Bakura sounded utterly enraptured, "I'd almost forgotten what it was like!"

"You see?" The ghost told him, completely oblivious or uncaring to the fact that he was slowly fading away, just like the spirit hat preceded it. "A communal christmas is always better than one alone. Because at least that way someone can watch your back while you steal all the picture frames you can find..."

They shared another laugh, sitting on crumbled gravestones before the Ghost finally drifted away into nothingness. Leaving only the words "Two down, one to go..." On the breeze...

The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Pass

The third and final Ghost travelled a lot faster than its companions. It arrived precisely on the stroke of three by the aged clocktower at the centre of the cemetery. A huge being, wrapped in a dark cloak that shielded everything but its dark, claw-like hands from view.

"Are you the last one?" Bakura asked, chucking away the accessories of the Santa costume. The Ghost nodded, but said nothing.

"Then I can go back to sleep?"

Another nod.

"Not overly talkative are you? I like that." Bakura tried not to draw attention to the fact that every time the ghost nodded, there was a similar movement further within its black robes. Another, pointed head was hidden within, much lower than the other, nodding in unison.

The Ghost gestured forwards with its claw, motioning for Bakura to follow, a black tail swishing behind it as it walked. It lead him through the winding rows of graves, trying to find a specific decrepit spot in a huge pile of decrepit spots. Once the pair of them reached the top of a small rise, the ghost gestured towards Domino City, its buildings ablaze and its citizens running in terror. Over the crackling air, the sound of familiar, sinister laughing reached Bakura's ears.

"Is... Is that me?" He asked.

Nod.

"I finally get to enact my revenge?"

Nod.

"Are you saying that if I get my act together, and learn to love my fellow villain or host body... That I can win?"

The ghost answered simply by pointing to a single, untended gravestone. Bakura approached, warily, slowly. This robed figure could be full of tricks. The Spirit of the Ring stood atop the grave, reaching out with one hand and shakily rubbing the frost from the suface of the headstone.

Pharaoh Atem.

When Bakura was next seen in Domino City, he had a deranged grin plastered over his face. He spoke with all the joy of the freshly snapped, swanning about town in half a Santa costume. If anyone had asked what exactly had put him in such an.. interesting mood, he simply would have answered that he had received the best Christmas Present he could have possibly asked for.

So, there we have it!

Merry Christmas Ryou!

Much seasonal regards:

xXx Higurazel xXx