Hello, freaks! :D

I'm going to be doing yet ANOTHER Bakushipping story because I'm awesome like that XD

This one is based on the story "Home Alone" (dur. XD)

If you don't know what it is, PLEASE watch the movies! You're going to laugh at the insanity these people had to put up with.

D-I-S-C-L-A-I-M-E-R_I do not owe YuGiOh, Home Alone, or even this website.

I also don't own the characters I have placed here as Ryou's family.

They go to their respectful owners (Whoever they may be..) and I get no credit what so ever.. I only own this story!_D-I-S-C-L-A-I-M-E-R


"Yes, sir!" The boy nods. Hardly a boy, anymore, he just turned eighteen a couple of days ago, with no one to share it. If you looked at him from the back, you could think he's a girl. From the front, a kid, a child no less. The boy has flawless skin, he's pale as a sheet of paper, would even make Snow White jealous. He has long, silver hair that reaches his upper back, and emerald green eyes. He has a slender figure, reaching up to five feet nine inches. "Will do, sir! Merry Christmas! Lo-love you too, Dad."

The boy sighs as he takes the phone away from his cheek, pressing the off button. He places it back onto the charger, earning a beep in doing so. The charger is on a night stand, next to the big tree we all call "The Tree". But this one is special. It's only decorated in red and gold—no family ornaments, hand made, encrypted ones, oh no—with beautiful laces of gold going down it's sides, with a crimson star on the very top of the tree. In fact, the whole house is decorated in either gold or red, no inch of the house is left its normal color.

Picking up a broom, the boy cleans up the dropped pine needles of the tree, and broken ornaments on the floor. The scraping noise against the floor reminds him of his mother doing this every Christmas, since his brothers and sisters couldn't keep still while putting the decorations up. The boy smiles, sadly. He picks up the glass, and throws it into the metal trashcan. Trying to exit the kitchen, his hip hits the end of the glass table. Hard.

"What the—owwww! Ow! That hurt!" The silverette clutches his side. "Ow ow ow ow ow.."

He hops over to the sofa in the living room and lies down. He stuffs his face into a pillow, tired out. The sofa is a dark red color, made out of nylon and cotton. It's like sitting on a red cloud in heaven.

In between the two sofas, is a coffee-table, made out of dark wood. Ontop of it is three santa clauses, each checking lists of naughty or nice. The reindeer are on the two back legs, most likely going to take off.

The green eyed boy loks up from his pillow, looking through the window. The next door neighbors aren't there, as he recalls, they told him that they would be going to another city to visit their family. So why is there a black van parked in front of that house?


Outside, the snow falls very slowly. The outside temperature is twenty degrees higher than the weatherman expected. You could walk outside with a teeshirt, and not be cold.

Near the bricked house that the silverette's looking at, near the black van, are two men, with pulled up sleeves and gloves.

"You got everything?" One of the men asks. His golden eyes reaches the other, which has crimson eyes. This man has grey hair that reaches his shoulders, and tan skin, almost a brown color. He's been in the sun his whole life, must've been why. Across his face, a scar shaped into a "t" burns a white color. Down his right arm, is another scar, one marred in red and black. He wears a red coat, reaching to about his ankles. The great contrast makes him easy to spot in the snow, but the man is very skilled and experienced.

The shorter one has silver hair that goes to his middle back. Two spikes go out on either side of his head, kind of like horns. Crimson eyes contrast the pale colors of his hair, and skin. His flawless skin gives him an advantadge. He wears a large black coat that goes to his feet, to keep him warm. Their history of thieving is long, a mile long perhaps. The crimson eyed young adult looks behind him. "I think so. What about you?"

"Yeah. Lets get out of here." The taller one nods. He signals to get inside the van.

"Right behind you, Akeifa." The crimson eyed boy stops. "Wait."

"What's wrong, Bakura?" Akeifa looks at him with a curious look.

"..There's someone watching us." The silverette looks around slowly.

"Where?" Akeifa twists around.

Bakura looks at the silverette's window, and smirks. "Right there."


The boy inside the house inhales sharply, and jumps back. "What? Why are they.. huh?" He turns to the door, and locks it, chains it, and bolts it. "Oh no. No no no." The beautiful boy searches the house for something to use to defend himself. "Oh! My dad's gun!"

The stairs are carved out of wood, with glass tiles. The wall it's placed on is turned into a mirror, imagining yourself walking down on the red carpet. The teen's desperate stomping guide up the stairs, and into the first white door on the left. He dives underneath the bed, pulling out a shoe box large enough to fit a child. He opens the dark green lid, and pulls out a small gun. "Close enough.." He jumps his way down the stairs, and breathes heavily. "Please don't come here. Come on."

The christmas cheer is gone—obviously—replaced to cold sweat. Chilled goosebumps ripple across the boy's body, who's aroused in fear. He puts on his shoes, that were discarded once he picked up the phone with his father, and charges the pistol. "Please don''t come here."

Everything becomes quiet, just the ticking of the clock hanging near the tree clicking every second.

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

The teen closes his eyes in fear, frozen sweat dripping down his face, waiting for a blow. Suddenly, the door handle jiggles. "Are you sure you saw a boy?"

"I'm pretty sure, Akeifa."

"It's just a child, Bakura. He most likely didn't even see what was going on."

"Don't you think it's a little risky to leave a kid as a wittness?"

"No one will believe him if he calls the police. Also, I doubt he'll remember this by tomorrow."

"Lets hope so."

"I know so, Bakura. Come on."

The jiggling of the door handle stops, and Ryou slides down on the floor with exasperation. "I'm doomed.." He opens his eyes, and cocks his head toward the stairs. He smiles brightly, and climbs the "red carpet" stairs, opening a window to see outside. A slight breeze comes in, and the boy shields his eyes. He peers down the window when the breeze calms down.

"How about this? We come back at nine o' clock. The kid will most likely be sleeping at that time, so we would have nothing to worry about. If he is away, we'll just make him be afraid of the dark."

The boy upstairs wonders how he got that weird scar on the right side of his face. He looks around his yard, grinning. "Nine-o-clock?" The silverette wonders. "Why nine-o-clock?"

"Good idea, Akeifa!" The one in a black coat slaps him in the forehead "Make a kid be afraid of the dark? He could call the cops on us!"

"They don't call me the Thief King for nothing, Bakura. We'll get in smoothly. Don't worry. Now, let's go, the kid will most likely be watching TV."


Yay! Part one is done! I hope you guys don't feel annoyed that I usually take ideas from Movies..


Have you ever hurt yourself on a glasstable? I have. It hurts SO FREAKING BAD.


Anyway, whoever reviews gets a free cookie!

Na, Ja ne!