Kano: Heh. We're back, and so as not to confuse any of you..erm.. ' less mentally adept 'individuals, this is from Bakura's POV. No, I haven't forgotten about him at all. And I do realize this chapter I short, but oh well. I like it anyway.

And also, there are translations for those of you who aren't completely fluent in Japanese:

Youkai- Ghost/Phantom/Spectre

Tenma- Evil Spirit/Demon/Fallen Angel

Nushi- Owner/Master/Lover/God


I Am: Dependence


He is back.

Back from wherever it is he goes during those spaces of time when he isn't beating me.

That is how I have started measuring time.

When he is here, and when he isn't.

When he is yelling at me, and when he isn't.

When he is hitting me, biting me, kissing me, and when he isn't.

I've forgotten the names of the colors I used to see. They are a rare sight now, but when they do come they no longer have any shape, no meaning like they once did. I would miss them, but He tells me that they don't matter anymore.

And they really, really don't.

From my position on the floor, legs tucked up underneath me to give me some small amount of balance, he seems to tower over everything.


I think he once told me his name. It..it was beautiful in an odd sort of way, I remember that much. It sounded like it should have been familiar to me, but I've forgotten it now.

Or maybe he never told me at all.




These, among others, are the names I have for him now. Some I have created for him on my own, and others he has me call him. I do not know what language I speak; only that he understands it and that I understand him. That is enough.

I feel him draw near, and I briefly wonder what today will be like.

Will he hit me, kick and bite at me until I am bleeding and curled up on the floor? Will he taunt me with horror stories from a past I don't remember having, or will he sit down on the ground and pull me into his lap, stroke my hair while he whispers how sorry he is for everything?

If he had only once said that he would change..that he wouldn't - maybe then I would believe him.

But today he says nothing to me, and although he does crouch down in front of me it is not so he can draw me any closer to him.

Instead he raises his hand and I flinch, waiting for the familiar feel of his knuckles bruising my skin.

I wait.

I wait.

I wait.