Firstly, Dark Magician Leaf, it's very hard to answer your questions when your Private Messaging is disabled so you might to look into that (if you go to Account then Settings you'll see you can Disable or Enable Private Messaging.) Secondly, it's super easy! Once you have your first story written, of course, (if you haven't then that's a whole other ballgame.) you go to the Publish tab and you click on Doc Manager (Upload), then you upload the word document. Then you go and click on New Story (also under the Publish Tab), agree to the Guidelines and just follow the instructions from there. It's very simple. Good luck!


Chyaputa 15: The White Dragon Awakens


Yami no Yugi untangled himself from the depths of his meditation. It was night now. He looked up and saw nothing, no sky, no light. His head hurt from the strain of searching for the Pharaoh's heart in the landscape of the desert. He knew that finding the Pharaoh was the only way to speak to his aibou. He also knew that if his aibou was here, he would be able to find the Pharaoh within seconds.

Because aibou's heart rang for the Pharaoh.

And because Yami no Yugi knew this, his own heart was betraying him. Some dark greedy part of his soul did not want to find the Pharaoh. He could never admit it, but there was a part of him that wanted the Pharaoh to be found, strewn across the base of some ravine in pieces.

The awareness of that thought terrified him. Yami no Yugi did not scare. Or at least he didn't use to. Before Yugi's humanity had taken a hold of him. Now he found himself in the clutches of fear every day. Fear of losing Yugi to death, to the capture of his soul, to the Pharaoh. To the Pharaoh and his flesh and life. The two things Yami no Yugi could not simulate.

He had to find the Pharaoh. Find him for aibou. So Yami no Yugi gasped for air in the darkness, ready to plunge back into another fit of meditation. However restless and futile it might be.


Malik had to break free to breathe.

"Like it?" The Thief bit Malik's neck hard.

"—ah!" It might have been Malik just reacting to the pain of being bitten, but the Thief knew better.

Malik returned the favor. He clawed at the Thief's back with such fervency that his nails must have left red streaks. And the Thief pulled up the front of Malik's shirt and chewed on his fresh chest.

Of course—as it always did with Malik—it was just when things were getting good that it all turned to hell.

Malik gasped, and it was not the type of gasp the Thief wanted to hear. The Thief knew the difference. He had been waiting for Malik to change. After all, outside, the sun was setting fast. It had been only a matter of time.

Sure enough, Malik's face convulsed.

"No," he winced, hands flying up over his face. "No, I won't let him. Not now!" Malik was fighting back. Fighting back against his darker side.

The Thief was ready for this. He took Malik's head in both hands. "Malik."

Malik's eyes squeezed open. He was wasting away under the strain of holding back his darker half. "I won't let him."

"I can't have a half-assed fuck with you," the Thief said with all the rationality he could muster. "I want you at the peak of ability, do you understand me?"

Malik flinched, his hands jumping up to his temples. "I don't—what…?"

"Let him out," the thief instructed.

Malik shivered. His mind was declining even at the idea. "I can't…"

"Malik," the Thief raked the boy's hair out of his face. "Do this for me." And, once again, the Thief reminded Malik of all he could offer with a zealous kiss.

Poor, poor Malik never stood a chance.

The change was quick. So quick that in the midst of the kiss, vicious teeth snapped and bit the Thief's bottom lip, almost ripping off a chunk. The Thief knocked the villian's head aside with his fist, which gave him the moment to escape with his mouth bleeding but not torn.

Malik's face had swelled, stretched. His eyes rolled so only the whites could be seen. The Thief was assaulted by four limbs at once, not counting a furious mouth. It was a little more than a desperate scramble really. What a pathetic dark spirit.

Under the table where dark Malik was sprawled upon were the chains that attached to the floor, where Malik had been restrained after his first outburst. The Thief had only to reach under the table, scoop up the manacles and snap them onto dark Malik's wrists. Then he stepped back and watched the beast writhe. And he did. Screeching at times too.

The Thief leaned against the opposite wall and took time to pick sand grains from his clothing.

"You're not going anywhere," the Thief said.

The creature gurgled, as though choking on its own laughter. "I need not go anywhere. As long as Main Personality is not yours. He's mine." The Thief approached the table. The beast was drooling in his enthusiasm to keep a hold of the body. "Filth like you will never have him."

"Is that so?" the Thief granted the creature his best unpleasant grin. "Then I guess I'll just have to do with you."

The beast that had taken Malik's body, started, his white eyes growing wide.

The Thief stretched his arm out the length of the table. "Yes, see, you've taken away my entertainment for the night. So you'll do as a substitute, don't you think?"

The creature grew still. "Who's to say I wouldn't enjoy it?"

"Please," the Thief grabbed not-Malik's chin, making sure his fingers dug into the jaw, "I would love for you to try."


As if the situation couldn't get more complicated.

With deep dread, the Thief King turned to find, Bakura, his future self in transparent form, had chosen now of all times to wake up from his long nap. He had the nerve to lounge against the door frame as though he was fucking untouchable. The only good news was that he hadn't brought his weaker half with him. Things were complicated enough.

The Thief wasn't about to halt his plans for this bastard. "Want to join?"

His future self arched a brow. "In raping Malik? I'm good."

"I'll bite your fingers off," the creature spat, practically shivering with disgust at another's touch. "I'll dig out your eyes!"

"Sounds like my kind of fun," the Thief ran a hand on the inside of the creature's leg. Not-Malik gagged. The Thief threw his head back in a dry laugh.

"Before you proceed," Bakura said, mood as calm as a pond. "You should know, that thing, he's not another person. That's Malik you'll be molesting, thief. Do you think he would appreciate it if you scared his body and mind?"

The Thief wasn't intimidated. "Malik might be more open than you think."

Bakura glowered and stepped away from the entrance of the shack to stand next to the table where the Malik-creature was squirming against his restraints. "This consciousness is what you might call Malik's security system. And I'm afraid I can't let you take him forcefully. Because if you did, that would be bad for us."

"Security?" the Thief's attention was successfully pulled away from ravaging Malik. Suspicion returned in waves. "There more to your secrets you're not telling me then."

"If you tell him, Malik," Bakura said quickly as if seeing mischief blooming on the not-Malik-creature's face, "You'll put Main Personality at an even bigger disadvantage in the future."

The beast snapped his teeth. "If I show him, you'd have no reason to seek Main Personality in the future. He would be all mine, for all of time. Even with Rishid around no one would have him but me."

"He'd still go to Yugi," Bakura reasoned. This was all in reference to something the Thief wasn't a part of. They were talking about his future. "Malik can't escape from his fate anymore than you can."

Dark Malik rattled his chains with sick glee. "Anymore than you?"

Bakura's face was stony. "I am no exception."

"This doesn't concern you!" the Thief had had enough. He took a discarded dagger from the floor and raised it. "Malik and I came to an understanding."

"Not all of Malik," Bakura corrected.

"Shut it!" the Thief was losing patience. "I'm done. I'm done with being told what to do. Being controlled by your knowledge and your world!"

"Your world?" and the slick way the bastard said it made the Thief almost summon Diaboundo for a showdown. Like a twinkle in his eye, Bakura was—as Ryou called it—as cool as ever. "You're at the crux of our world."

"I never got your Eye!"

"That is true," but he didn't hide that he wasn't the least bit concerned. "Congratulations."

The Thief would have lunged at his future self, if Yami no Malik hadn't taken that moment to thrash and bite the Egyptian's arm. The Thief King directed all his previous rage at the beast inside of Malik, smacking him down on the table, hand around the boy's neck.

Yami no Malik choked out a gurgling laugh.

"Malik better be worth this." Though with the way things were going he wasn't totally against breaking the kid's neck right here.

Luckily the future-self swooped in just in time. Leaning closer to the table. "Malik, look at me."

The Malik-creature's diseased eyes spun toward the pale Bakura. His throat muscles flexed under the Thief's fingers. "I cannot be quenched. I cannot be destroyed. I am the darkness—"

"I am aware," Bakura agreed dryly. "But that's not going to stop this man from taking that nice body of yours and giving it a good pleasure thrashing."

The Thief was so startled he nearly lost hold of the creature. His future self was helping him out with Malik? Why? What was his motive?

Yami no Malik gagged and twitched at the thought. The creature couldn't handle another person's touch, because Malik couldn't get enough of it. In that way they were total opposites. Interesting.

"You have two options," Yami no Bakura explained. "You could give his body up to your lighter half and escape all those feelings that revolt you. Or you could cling onto the body and receive all that pleasure first hand." And the icy grin he used to seal the deal made it obvious which way the argument would go.

"He's mine—he can play all he wants but in the end—in the end—"

"Malik knows himself, knows you," Yami no Bakura said, "A lot better than you do."

More gurgles of laughter. The Thief's fingers almost slipped off the neck.

And there, finally, it was. The creature's face seemed consumed in pain, flexed. Then it melted and smoothed. Almost the same moment that the Thief released his hold on the neck did Malik's eyes blink back into their usual focus.

And a grin broke his face.

"You did it!" Malik tackled the Thief, as well as he could. His arms couldn't reach far but his legs wrapped themselves around the Thief's middle. "You did it!" he was shrieking with delight.

"Like it?" the Thief slid his arms around the kid's middle, bending down over the table. "And it's gonna last this time."

It didn't take long for the sleepy sex look to return to Malik's face. "Oh, I like it."


The Thief bristled. He lifted himself only far enough away so he could glance at his future-self. "Your help, appreciated. Now get out, unless you want to observe the positions we are going to perform."

Future self didn't even look at him. "Malik. Your promise."

Malik tossed his head in frustration. "Fuck it, Bakura! Can't you see how we're in the thralls of passion?"

Yami no Bakura was in no mood. "Have your night." But at least he turned to exit the shack. "But don't forget your legacy," he added on the threshold.

The Thief looked to see Malik's face turn sour. His fire dulled for a moment.

More fucking riddles.

But it was not long before the future-self was out in the night now, and with him gone, the Thief and Malik were so close and destined to be uninterrupted.

The Thief bit Malik's neck to break the boy from his gloom. "Still up for it?"

Malik yelped and then laughed. He was back. "Oh, I want to fuck!" he screamed.

"I've never been one to waste time." And the Thief snatched the boy right off the table, kicking the furniture away. Malik's laughter broke all the obstacles between them, as the two of them tumbled to the floor. Their mouths couldn't find each other fast enough. Malik choked on the enthusiasm filling his mouth. The Thief sucked so hard that he pulled the air out of Malik's lungs. He released the seal of their lips so the kid could catch a breath, but not a very long one.

Now. They were getting there. Their bodies shivered with the anticipation. The Thief was shivering. He couldn't remember a time when his sexing was so sloppy. With Malik it was almost unavoidable. The force he put into every motion needed to be equaled or fought against. Everything was about pleasure. There was no wasting time.

In the sake of not wasting time, the Thief's dove his hands under Malik's shirt.

It was a double shock then to have Malik break the seal of their lips and grab both his hands and yank them out.

"What?" the Thief growled.

Malik pouted at him. "Don't freak out, darling. I got one rule and you don't get to question it, got it? You don't get to take off my shirt, you don't get to look under it, or feel under it at all, ok?"

This killed the mood. "More secrets, right?" the Thief growled. "Fucking hell—any other parameters I should know about?"

"Don't get sulky," Malik snapped.

He couldn't help it, fury sparked in the Thief. His temper had always been too quick. "Always complications!"

"Listen!" Malik flung his legs around the Thief's middle to keep him from going anywhere. "I'm gonna to fuck, tonight."

The Thief couldn't have gotten away if he had wanted to, that doesn't mean that he wasn't still pissed. "Really? With yourself?"

"Cut the crap, we've been through this," Malik told him simply. "You've wanted me ever since I stole your drink in the bar that first night. You're not giving this up now."

"And you think…" the Thief planted his fists on either side of Malik's head. "You think you're that irresistible, do you?"

Unabashed, Malik nodded. "Oh yeah."

The Thief couldn't help it. His mouth broke into a grin. "Cocky bastard."

Malik arched his back so their bodies curled into each other, like the perfect fit, delivered with a cheeky smirk. "Face it, you're set on me."

The Thief couldn't deny it for long. His own body was betraying him. And the truth was Malik was just as irresistible as he made himself out to be. Flushed rich skin and all.

The Thief's mood had cracked. The heat was back and there was no return now. The way Malik manipulated him was too skillful, and even a little bit scary, but so damn hot.

"Then the chains are staying," the Thief said, "As punishment."

And without further hesitation, the Thief took Malik into his command. And the supple, submissive Malik never complained. Quite the contrary.


Seth was so shocked to see Jounouchi dragged in with the female prisoner that he feared for a moment his composure had broken. One glance at his mentor and Seth was assured. Akhenaden was fixated on the new prisoners and had not been aware of Seth's moment of weakness. Seth collected himself. What kind of idiot got caught by the same guards twice?

They must have beaten Jounouchi again for he was not moving with his regular strength and his left eye looked swollen. Seth saw him glance over the arena without much more emotion than vague interest in the bottomless pit. Then Seth remembered sharply that because of his lack of magical abilities Jounouchi couldn't see Ka monsters.

Akhenaden was also displeased by Jounouchi's appearance. "I tell you to fetch the girl and you bring me an extra felon?"

"He was found breaking into the prison, my lords," one of the guards answered.

"He is a fool then," Seth said, and tried very hard to sound like he had not come to this conclusion before.

Jounouchi, who was aware of Seth, jerked in the guards' hold. "Nice, real nice, Seth," he spat. He spoke in Japanese, but even Akhenaden caught Seth's name in his words.

Akhenaden grew suspicious. "Seth, do you know this man?"

"He was found on the streets for his obvious discrepancies." Seth admitted as briefly as possible. "I attempted to interrogate but was interrupted by Bakura's attack on the temple. He escaped in the confusion." So why return to the prison he had gotten away from? And where was his sidekick and Seth's nemesis? The Kaiba. Jounouchi should not be here.

"Tell them to free my hands at least," the blond complained. When Seth refused to react to his commands, Jounouchi struggled even more. "Oi! Kono yarou! Kotaerou!" he cried, preferring to curse in his native tongue.

"Does it speak our language?" Ahkenaden asked, watching Jounouchi with more attention than he deserved.

"No." Seth said pointedly. "He's so primitive that I could not even place our language in its mind with the Holy Sennen Rod without destroying it."

Jounouchi shut his mouth. Perhaps he was starting to understand the necessity that their acquaintance be kept a secret. The blond satisfied himself by grumbling. "Jerk."

"I don't know why it's here," Seth said pointedly, careful to not look at Jounouchi. Meanwhile his mind burned with thought: how could he get Jounouchi to safety without compromising himself? Then a second question even more ridiculous came to mind: why did he care so much about keeping Jounouchi safe?

Jounouchi answered Seth's question. "I came to save her. The girl you're about to torture or toss in a pit or whatever you bastards are doing down here."

The girl, pale skin and blue eyes, was still. She was too calm in a situation where she was obviously at a disadvantage. Even her eyes were frozen on Seth. It was eerie. The priest didn't like it at all.

"I don't believe it has any other fellows. They would have been with him, don't you think?" Seth said, looking obviously to Akhenaden.

"We got separated." Jounouchi jumped in, realizing in a flash of brilliance that the statement had been directed towards him. The guards held him still but he thrashed. "Kaiba's somewhere around here! He'll come for me. He always does!"

Seth shot Jounouchi a subtle look.

The blond reddened. "We're not like that…"

"He is nothing," Seth repeated with as much casual air as he muster. "The girl on the other hand…"

"Yes." And Akhenaden turned to the female. The look in the old man's face was an emotion dangerously similar to hunger. "I anticipate seeing much from her today."

The guards had not felt the need to restrain the girl in question as they had Jounouchi. Then again her limbs were thin. Even given a chance, she could not have fought them off. She probably couldn't even make it up the dungeon stairs.

"Woman," Seth called to her. "What is your name?"

The girl's body had to struggle to make speech. "Kisara, my lord." She bent at the waist like she had been broken that way. "Thank you."

What was she thanking him for? Seth found himself fighting a wave of revulsion. Simply looking at her made Seth nauseous. Only the need to not show weakness stopped him from turning away.

"She will enter the arena," Akhenaden decided, returning to Seth at the throne.

"She will what?" Jounouchi asked, sensing the danger though he could not see it. "What's going on?"

"When faced with the threat of the two other Kas, her holy Ka-monster, already shaped by Shaada's Key before, will surely emerge without the assistance of my Eye." Akhenaden circled Seth's throne, gaze fixed on the remaining two prisoners inside. "The moment she senses her death is near she'll be forced to protect herself."

"What?" Jounouchi thrashed, head twisted with new urgency to the arena and back again. "No, you can't do this! Those guys will kill her! She hasn't done anything wrong!"

Seth ignored Jounouchi, reminding himself it was to save the blond's life. As long as Jounouchi remained safe his efforts would be enough. Who was this female anyway? She was different than the other pale-skins, who all seemed to know each other. She was a native of Egypt, which meant Jounouchi couldn't have met her before a couple of weeks ago. She couldn't possibly be anything precious to him.

"If she can't see the monster-Ka it won't matter, she won't even be aware of the threat," Seth said and then immediately furious with himself afterwards that he had even attempted to protect the female on Jounouchi's behalf.

He should have known Akhenaden would not waver. "With her power? If it is as powerful as you say it is, she should be able to see Ka as well as Ba."

"I can see the monsters, my lord," the female, Kisara, answered, bowing again to Seth. Obedient to a fault.

So she did want to die. Or she knew exactly what she was doing. Either way. Seth felt himself liking the woman less and less.

"Excellent." Akhenaden motioned to the guards. "Lower the bridge to the arena and let her through."

"Stop!" Jounouchi cried. "You can't let them do this!" His legs kicked out. He was causing real trouble now. And Seth could not stop him without putting himself at risk.

Kisara did not seem to mind the guards as they shuffled her forward, towards the edge of the cliff.

"Throw the extra prisoner in the arena as well," Akhenaden instructed.

"Akhenaden," Seth rose from his chair, before he had even realized what he had done so. "I cannot condone this. I know that prisoner does not have a speck of magic in him. He cannot possibly see the Ka, let alone summon his own to defend himself."

Akhenaden put his hand on Seth again, but this time he squeezed his shoulder. If Seth didn't trust Akhenaden so much, he would have almost thought it was a threat. "Then he will provide sport for the others. Perhaps their powers will grow simply by the thrill of bloodshed."

The bridge that lead to the arena was being lowered. And Jounouchi was being pushed by the other guards closer to it.

"Enough of this Akhenaden!" Seth's words turned ruthless without his leave. "What has come over you to make you act so strange? Destroying a man for the sake of it has never been your way!"

Akhenaden pulled his precious student closer; the closed distance fudged Seth's thoughts. "You know as well as any, these are desperate times. Seth, I tell you this because you must accept it: the Pharaoh is dead."

For the first time in his life, Seth pulled away from his mentor. "You are wrong. Return that prisoner!" he shouted at the guards holding Jounouchi.

"Ignore that order," Akhenaden said, so calm that Seth was insulted. The guards complied with Akhenaden's words.

"It's ok!" Jounouchi shouted back at him. "I'll protect her! No matter how many invisible enemies there are!"

The idiot! Seth's thoughts ran, too fast for him to come to any conclusion. "Akhenaden, I beseech you—"

"No, Seth." Akhenaden's voice might have been calm, but his face was twisted. Seth felt himself recoil. "You must accept that the Pharaoh is dead. You must put aside your improper feelings for the Pharaoh and rationalize like a priest for the sake of the Kingdom."

Seth rejected the truth from Akhenaden's words. There was nothing improper about his feelings for the Pharaoh. Not anymore… "If we believe the Pharaoh is dead then the Kingdom is lost!"

The bridge to the arena was down, the female was being shoved across it. There was no time.

"The Kingdom can still be saved if we have a new Pharaoh, a new king." Akhenaden forced Seth's head away from the bridge. "Seth, you will be that new King."

Seth's brain was stuck. This was not Akhenaden as Seth had knew him. This was not the good old man that had taught Seth everything he knew.

The female had crossed into the arena. Jounouchi was right behind her, hands now unbound, he rushed after her. Did he think he could protect her against monsters he himself could not see? The fool! The bridge was still in place, they could run back.

But the other two prisoners became aware of Jounouchi and the woman. Seth could hear their murderous voices from across the chasm.

"What's this? A girl and a powerless boy? Neither even have Ka!"

"Sounds like fun," the other said. "I'd take a break."

"Seth! You are the Kingdom's hope now," Akhenaden was still raving. "With that girl's Ka you will be more powerful than the all Three Gods—"

Seth watched as the two prisoners, their two enormous Ka's in tow, close in on Jounouchi and the female. Their only hope now was if the girl summoned her Ka to defend them. If she wanted to die that was fine, but she must not allow Jounouchi to perish along with her…

But that seemed to indeed be the case! The girl was just as froze in the arena as she had been in front of Seth. She made no motions that indicated fear or even worry! In contrast, Jounouchi took her by the shoulders and urged her to flee to another platform.

The girl would not save them. Jounouchi would die.

Seth moved away from Akhenaden. Though he didn't care for the girl he would not let an innocent die. That was the whole reason behind saving the Kingdom, or else why not hand it over to Bakura?

"Seth!" Akhenaden called to him, but Seth was already reaching for his Sennen Rod.

Incredibly—later Seth would assume that his guards had all been distracted by the battle of Ka in front of them to react faster—before Seth could reach the platform, a blur from someone running at great speed shoved passed him. Seth was startled enough to stop.

Kaiba—the man had somehow gotten into the dungeons; and, as Seth watched, he jumped for the bridge into the arena.


Ryou was lost. Or he felt lost. He had to keep turning around to look back at the shack, just to make sure it was still there. It was the only distinctive feature in the whole, smooth landscape. The desert extended outward, dark and formless. How could anyone find their way in this lifeless place?

Oh. Yes, of course, the stars. Away from the smog of the Pharaoh's city, there were suddenly thousands—millions—of them.

It wasn't even that long until his darker half, or the illusion of his darker half, walked back from the shack. His pace was even. He must have accomplished his goal.

Ryou tried his best not to look like he had been panicking for the last ten minutes. "Malik's doing ok?"

Perhaps those were not the best words of greeting. But Bakura's expression didn't seem to be affected by it. "He seems to be enjoying himself."

Ryou breathed. He tried to make it seem like he was relieved about Malik, but truly he was just glad his darker half was back. "Good. Malik deserves it."

Bakura made no further comment. He was still standing, staring out, not at the landscape or the vast array of stars, like he was thinking hard—a look that, now that he and his host were separated, Ryou had seen too often. If Ryou had been Malik, or anyone more confident, he would have dragged the dark spirit down into the sand with him. But he wasn't. And sitting in the sand didn't suit a spirit as proud and as ancient as he.

"Malik can have as much fun as he wants, granted the mission is up held."

Ryou had never been told what the mission was, but he could guess. "Can Malik…" Ryou felt his temperature rocket to burning levels in his cheeks. "You know… while hiding the carvings on his back?"

"Malik's much more flexible than one would think," the spirit said.

If Ryou didn't know who he was talking to he would have thought this was a joke. But it wasn't. Not that Ryou could really say he knew the spirit.

And just when Ryou was getting used to the spirit towering over him… the spirit lowered himself to sit in the sand. Almost close to Ryou too.

Ryou hid his awkwardness with more conversation. "It's getting to him, the Ring, and now the Puzzle. Dorobo-san almost ate me this morning."

"I'm surprised he held himself back."

After that day, Ryou felt understood Dorobo more. After all, Ryou could barely restrain himself from reaching out at this moment. With the spirit so close…

"You knew he would," Ryou said. "Or else you would've come out."

"Don't count on it," Yami no Bakura said. "You can't always count on me."

Ryou swallowed. He couldn't see the truth in this. "Everything has been fine so far."

The movement beside Ryou distracted him beyond anything. He was too cautious to even move, before he realized the spirit was leaning towards him. Ryou froze in the warm night air of the desert.

The spirit had reached out to Ryou. But before Ryou could get too freaked out he noticed the hand was heading to the Ring Ryou was wearing oh-so-openly on his chest. Perhaps not the smartest decision.

"The Ring…" the spirit began, for that was what the object was, "Cannot sustain me indefinitely." And then the spirit's eyes flickered up to Ryou's face and back down again. "Don't worry. I'm not talking about any time soon." Ryou hadn't even been aware of the own horror on his face. "I'll outlive your mortal life by hundreds, thousands of lifetimes maybe."

So nothing lasted forever… Ryou fought his inner turmoil to keep listening. He had to keep listening.

"Like your human body, the illusion of me you see before you needs rest. The more activity it goes through, the more easily it is tired out. Like if I expend a lot of energy using shadow magic, but also little things like being audible, visual, tangible, that affects it too."

He was telling Ryou that he had tired himself out the night before because he had spent the night holding him.

"Tangibility takes the most energy."

And he touched the Ring on Ryou's chest. Ryou's stomach rocked.

How could the spirit let Ryou stare so openly, so obviously? Perhaps it was on purpose…? Ryou shivered.

"Are you cold?"

Ryou was frozen. But it wasn't because of the weather. "No. Not at all."

He was a trembling, mumbling idiot.

The spirit dropped his hand from Ryou's chest. Was he disappointed that Ryou hadn't taken his invitation? Had it been an invitation? But the hand dropped to stop at Ryou's hands.

Ryou stared as the spirit touched the back of his hands.

"See that."

Ryou didn't see anything but those fingers. "I don't think so."

Bakura pulled at the boy's fingers. "This." Like spiders across Ryou's skin, Bakura took his wrist next. "Couldn't do this before."

"No…" Ryou could only watch. It occupied all this thought. The tingle was bad. Ryou's head…

Bakura was concentrating on their hands, Ryou's palest arms. Ryou could only look at that face with down turned eyes. Ryou saw that face. That one he had never seen before three days ago.

"Or this." Bakura's nails crawled up the inside of his arm. Ryou tried not to show that his mouth had parted, only the slightest, waiting for his breath to come back.

It wasn't like Ryou hadn't had dreams about… this. His mind wandering. Thinking about what ifs… hypotheticals. Everything in between. But it was all fantasies. Ryou wasn't naïve. He had friends like Jounouchi and Honda, even Yugi, who watched videos and talked about these things… Ryou had been present for these conversations. But he had never done anything. Not like…

Ryou knew Bakura had had a relationship with Malik. During Battle City, a time that Ryou still had trouble recalling. He had felt it, the moments when his darker half had been with Malik. Even though he was unconscious, when he woke up in his own body again he knew. It was like everything smelled different. Even though his Yami made sure that there was nothing for him to see. He always knew the act had happened.

But now, Ryou and his spirit were leaning close together. Hands tangled. Did he and Malik ever do this? Ryou could never ask.

Bakura's mouth was hard, twisted, like there were words trapped behind it. The silence was draining.

Ryou wanted to say something, get him talking again. His fingers had quit moving. Knees together, Bakura's hands on Ryou had his arms outstretched, palms up and full of moonlight. Like sacrifices to the gods, waiting.

"What do I call you?" Ryou asked. His eyes never left Bakura's face.

"What you want," Bakura answered, in his usual vague phrasing. "You'll always be Yadonushi to me." And the spirit's touched the length of his arms again, tracing them with the tips of his fingers.

Ryou found his breath speeding. He hadn't even decided to do it.


The most beautiful sound in the world.

And Ryou was suddenly inspired. As the spirit touched his arms, in larger circles every time, Ryou suddenly found the spirit's legs tantalizing. So slowly, as though he were going to be caught, Ryou ran the briefest, lightest touch down the spirit's calf. When the limb ended, his hand had no choice but to travel back up again.

They were… what were they… Ryou's mind was blank.

He could only concentrate on his task. Drifting his fingers up the jean material of the spirit's leg. Was it his imagination or was the spirit's touch getting faster, both hands glided over Ryou's wrists to his shoulders now.

Ryou's hands understood this spirit had legs. But what about a chest? Ryou watched as his own hands betray him as they found a solid chest. It didn't feel like an illusion. He felt ribs, muscle beneath his shirt… surely there was more skin there too.

But before Ryou could move on, he was distracted as the spirit's hands left his shoulders. Instead of returning to the arms, the spirit's hands slid up his neck. Ryou shuddered and warmed. The hands drifted further up into the boy's hair. Fingers curling in his mass of locks and tugging at his scalp. And it felt good. It felt.

It was as though Ryou was hypnotized. He must have been. The regular Ryou would have never touched the spirit's neck. The smoothest neck… They had each other by the skulls. Their heads poised, leaning in together.

Only now did Ryou notice the spirit's mouth had relaxed. His eyes were squeezed shut though, as though bracing himself. While Ryou couldn't keep his wide enough, as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

They breathed together. Faces encircled by each other's hands.

Ryou knew the next step. He had hoped he wouldn't have to initiate it.

Their foreheads touched. The spirit's hands were mad in his hair. It made Ryou's will all the more fuzzy.

Ryou considered stopping himself. Was he going too far?

The spirit wouldn't open his eyes. He wasn't acting. Would they stay in this position forever? Ryou was so much more foolish.

Ryou dived forward. Too rushed, too clumsy, their mouths fumbled for a moment. But only a moment. They found their center in the end.

Ryou was kissing his spirit.

He wasn't sure how it was done, but he had an idea. The spirit helped, then took over. Softest of mouths. Soft and nice…

Until the spirit pushed himself away.

Ryou obeyed. Now that it was too late. The deed was done. They could never go back.

The spirit did not take his hands off his Yadonushi, but he held the boy's head away. "I didn't see this…"

Ryou was out of breath. "You see what your past self saw, right? Perhaps he never knew because he's with Malik now."

The spirit snorted, then rushed back into Ryou. "My clever, clever, Yadonushi…"

He had Ryou around the middle, hands rushing up the boy's back, as though molding him. Ryou touched every part of the spirit's he could find. Mouths always connected. Breath was a harsh job. Ryou's only thought was to feel. His spirit could only be solid for so long. Any second and he could disappear again. Back into the Ring, like he never even existed.

The spirit's hands pulled at him, at his clothes. Ryou wanted him to… the back of his shirt drifted up, the spirit exploring the free skin underneath. Ryou trembled at the new sensation. It was wonderful. So wonderful. His spirit was wonderful.

Ryou thought he knew the direction their actions were heading. And he wanted to do everything to speed up the process. So he separated his mouth from the spirit's, grabbed his own shirt and pulled it up over his head.

The desert air was surprisingly cool on his freed skin. Ryou flung himself back into the warmth of his spirit's arms, mouth diving for the spirit's kiss…

"Hold yourself."

Ryou's eyes broke open to find the spirit smirking. Smirking at him? Why…?

He had done something wrong. Ryou's chest ached with the realization. What had he…? He had ruined…? "I-I'm sorry."

But the spirit did not let the boy pull away. "Don't." And the illusion of his darker half squeezed his shoulders, pulling the boy closer. "You've never done this before."

Ryou shivered. With the loss of activity, his body was losing heat fast to the night breeze.

"You." The spirit stroked his hair. "You keep surprising me." The ancient spirit sighed. "Taking the initiative, throwing yourself around. It's not like you."

Ryou couldn't stop the shaking in his limbs.

"Oi." The spirit yanked up the boy's head so he could examine his face. His eyes were so dark and ancient. "Never feel ashamed around me. You never did when I was in your mind. You let me have your most intimate thoughts there." His mouth turned into a smirk again. "You've let me see this side of you before."

Ryou swallowed. His humiliation was too much. "It's different now."

"How?" The spirit's eyes twinkled.

And panic bubbled up in Ryou without him knowing. "You… you said…" Ryou swallowed again but he couldn't stop the pour of his emotions. Like the tears forming in his eyes. He hadn't cried in so long. He never did. So why now? "You have a body."

"An illusion."

"It's real to me!" Ryou blurted out. His fingers twisted around the spirit's arm, squeezing too hard, absorbed in its solidness. "And how long is it going to last? We may only have a few days like this! If we go back—if when all this is over—if you go back to the Ring… I'll never have you."

Silence stretched. Ryou wanted to hide. He was such a child. And the spirit was so ancient. He didn't have time to deal with whining kids.

"I'm sorry," Ryou repeated. "I shouldn't say such inappropriate things."

"Was kissing me a mistake then?"

"No!" Confused, Ryou tried to search the spirit's face. But the spirit had him trapped.

"Yadonushi, I am perfectly aware that if I asked you to," the spirit's eyes turned dangerous, "You'd give yourself to me tonight."

The boy inside of Ryou screamed in terror. Screaming with teenage lust. The desert hummed with energy.

The spirit smirked. "Yadonushi, stop trying to beat your own thoughts. I like your thoughts. They entertain me. Especially when they are inappropriate."

Ryou opened his mouth to speak, but found his lips obstructed by the spirit's mouth.

"I shall have you," the spirit promised, as he sealed their kiss. He glowed with command in the night. "I would have you. But I have to reserve myself for the final battle. As I said, tangibility and action consumes energy."

Ryou, more dazed than relieved, still clung to the spirit's arms. "You won't stay with me at least?"

The breath was knocked out of the Japanese boy as he was shoved backwards onto the ground.

The spirit pulled his illusionary body on top of Ryou's. "Do not fear." He bit Ryou's neck, as his hands ravaged the boy's naked torso. Ryou bent himself to the spirit's touch, basking in it. And as the spirit nibbled his collarbone, he hissed through his work, "You cannot lose me, even if you wanted to. The Items exist in our future world, just as they exist now. The same phenomenon of an illusion can be created again."

Ryou inhaled so he would not scream with delight.

"You're cursed with me."

"One can only hope," Ryou agreed.

The spirit tugged Ryou's shoulders off the ground so his mouth could meet the spirit's waiting jaws. The boy did his best to cling onto his spirit's shoulders, responding with enthusiasm. Ryou's lips could not escape, even if he had wanted them to. It was as though the spirit was trying to convey… something with all the pressure he was putting on Ryou. The boy's mouth was abused and nursed by the spirit's, and he writhed in every second of it.

After long moments, the spirit released Ryou, stunned, out of breath. His lips felt hot, almost swollen.

The spirit's black eyes had him. He straddled Ryou as his ancient hands covered the length of the boy's bare chest, and for a moment Ryou thought he was going back on his word.

"Please, put your shirt on."

Ryou did, without complaint. When the deed was complete he was dragged back into the sand and covered by the spirit's arms. Ryou gazed up at the sky, his whole body shivering with awe.

"Tell me what you are thinking."

After he had caught his breath, Ryou said, "I want to help you on your mission."

"Our mission," the spirit corrected harshly. "You are a part of it. Never forget that."

Ryou turned his head towards the spirit. "But I don't know what I am supposed to do to help."

"Everything you will do, you have already done. You couldn't screw things up if you wanted to."

Like Dorobo, but Ryou kept that thought to himself.

The only thing Ryou could do was breathe, breathe and gaze at the sky. He would not sleep. His body was too alive with desires that could not be satisfied. Not, at least, until later. His spirit's eyes were closed, as though he were sleeping, but they both knew he couldn't. Neither of them moved the entire night, the spirit continually pressing Ryou hard to his chest, Ryou watching the stars rotate as the night rolled on.

They remained this way until the spirit disappeared back into the Ring, needing rest after a long night of tangibility.


Keeping Kisara and himself out of harms way seemed, during those first few seconds, futile. Jounouchi didn't lie to himself, faced with foes he could not see, that the two of them had any chance. He had a few fleeting existential thoughts, about what he had accomplished in his life, how his sister would deal with his death, but mostly he was much too distracted with his own immanent death to dwell. The best he could manage was stumbling from one hanging platform to the next, pulling Kisara behind him.

He hadn't even noticed Kaiba had arrived until he heard above the din, "Jounouchi, left!"

Jounouchi's brain froze. "Kaiba?"

Meanwhile, he had forgotten to go left.

Pain burst from the center of Jounouchi's back to his shoulder. He wasn't used to cuts, blunt fists were one thing. Cuts bled, a lot. And now Jounouchi was bleeding.

He clung to Kisara, and over her, he spotted Kaiba kick one of the prisoners over the edge of the hanging platforms. He imagined that got rid of at least one of the invisible monsters.

But he couldn't stop moving. Jounouchi pulled Kisara's thin shoulders toward Kaiba. Kaiba. He had come for Jounouchi. He always would.

Jounouchi's vision spun. He had underestimated his own injury. But if he could get to Kaiba everything would be fine.

He tripped over his own feet. He fell partway across the platform and found that he was too weak to get up. Shit. Kisara didn't leave him. She held his hand and brushed his hair, cooing like she was his mother or something. Who was this girl?


"Kaiba?" No. It was Seth's tan face leaning over his. Seth who was kneeling by him.

Kaiba was not looking to Jounouchi at all.

Kaiba was pulling Kisara away. The girl let go of Jounouchi and followed him to her feet.

Kaiba was holding Kisara's body to his own.

Jounouchi thought he was hallucinating. Kaiba didn't like her, Kaiba liked him!

But as he watched Kisara raise her arms to accept Kaiba's embrace, it seemed as though the blue in both their eyes connected. And then the two of them… exploded.

It was the only explanation Jounouchi could come to. There was light. And though Jounouchi knew he could not see Ka he thought he saw the light stretched out into an odd animal shape. It was only for a moment. After that there was a scream, apparently from the last remaining prisoner as he was incinerated but the light.

Seth was all Jounouchi could see for a few moments. And even he was gazing up at all the light, seeing something Jounouchi couldn't.

When the light had subsided, Kaiba was holding an unconscious Kisara in his arms. And Kaiba was looking at her in a way Jounouchi had never seen him look at a woman before.

Jounouchi's pain tripled.


Jounouchi's Japanese: "Hey! Asshole! Answer me!"

Yep, pretty long chapter too. YOUR WELCOME.

Truthfully. That last scene with Jounouchi, Kaiba, Seth, and Kisara, is probably like my favorite scene that I have ever written ever. Even better than the Bakura and Ryou "sex" scene, which I also love. It just meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeans sooooo much, you know? Yeah.


HA! so... JUST released this while updating. The title of this chapter is the White Dragon awakens, right? (giggle) so. yeah. I'll let you discover those innuendos for yourself. teehee. :p