Ryou: *pokes her*

WSJ: .... *falls over*

Ryou: ^^; She was up late last night perfecting her entry for High Crystal Guardian's Negative Contest. Go read it, if you're bored. It's called The Falcon.

WSJ: @__@ Zzzzzzzzz... *twitches*

Ryou: *sweatdrops and drags her away*

Disclaimer: I don't own YGO in any way, shape, or form. The way of Ishtar's speech and manner is borrowed from IrishJade, one of the best writer's I've ever met. Go check out her fics, especially Fragillis Pondera.

()()()()()

Huh. I guess Bakura rubbed off on me more then I thought. At least a little. Isis doesn't even wake up as I slide the drugged cloth under her nose. Oh no, I have nothing against Isis-san. It won't hurt her. I just don't want her waking up any time while I'm still around. Creeping two doors down the hall, I do the same to Rashiid, and he never stirs at all. Sleeping like babies, I believe is the metaphor I'm looking for here.

But I guess I'm not as quiet as I thought. The door to Rashiid's room flies open just as I'm about to put my hand on the knob to leave, banging against the wall behind it. Two years ago I might have winced at either the noise or seeing Ishtar standing in front of my with the Eye of Horus burning on his forehead and the Rod clenched tightly in his hand.

Now, however, I just take a step backward, making sure I'm out of range of his arms. He narrows his eyes at me, probably trying to place who I am.

"Yami?"

Ah, so Malik's awake now too. All the better. I like challenges. I grin ferrally as Ishtar answers his aibou without taking his eyes from me. "Back to bed Pretty Other, is nothing." Once he is sure his hikari is back in bed, he turns to me. "Tomb robber go. What have you done to Isis-sister and Rashiid-not-brother?"

Contrary to what Ishtar probably thought I'd do, I throw back my head and laugh at the absurdity of it all. Mistaken for my yami when I don't even look the least like him anymore...! "Oh I'm not my yami Ishtar. And I have a job to do."

Ishtar frowned at me as he slid the dagger out of the Rod. "Not get to Pretty Other, Ring Holder. Pretty Other's Other won't let you."

My scowl twists with bitterness. "Not Ring Holder anymore Ishtar. Never again... But I will get him back! I will! It's not your hikari I want Ishtar. It's you."

He looks surprised, and isn't prepared to defend as I charge at him, pulling a knife from my cloak. It's been months. I know how to steal, I've had to learn. So anything I want is easily within my grips. This knife is a good one. Only the best for the King of Thieves.

My face takes on a ghoulish smile as I reflect on the irony of it all. Here I am, one of the best thieves in the world, if not the best, and the international news media choose to call me by my yami's title. How ironic. Ironic and somehow... fitting, I suppose, in a way.

Ishtar squeks as I jump on him, but his instincts kick in and he throws me off him. I nod slightly and we circle each other warily, knives held at ready. My sences seem sharper then ever before, and a laughter that sounds supiciously like my yami's echoes through my head. I wonder briefly if this is what it feels like to be insane, and that thought makes me smile. Ishtar must have caught the psycotic gleam in my eye, one that's so often in his own, and he shudders.

I choose that moment to jump, and my dagger comes down hard on his shoulder, causing him to cry in pain. A red haze springs up in front of my eyes as Ishtar's blood flows over my hands, and I realize in that moment why my yami loved the pain of others so much. Pain to yourself is saticfying, but there's just something about causing others pain that energises the soul.

Ishtar stumbles back holding his shoulder, and I laugh cruelly. He looks up, and in that moment it seems we have both switched personalities. As Ishtar cowers on his knees I see only Malik, and reflected in his eyes I see me, although I look and sound and seem like I have become Bakura.

"Yami!" Malik runs into the room and falls to his knees next to Ishtar. He turns to look at me, and unlike his yami he recognises me instantly. "Ryou! Help me, someone's hurt my yami!"

I almost have the erge to laugh again. Fool, can't even tell I'm the one who's done this. The blood on my hands is still warm, and something drives me forward. I want more! As I step forward and Malik shrinks against his yami in fear, my foot collides with something. Looking down I see the Sennen Rod, still laying where Ishtar had dropped it after I'd stabbed him.

My eyes lighting up and suddenly knowing what I can do to cause the most pain to the both of them, I center the hard heel of my boot over the Eye of Horus on the knobby end of the Rod. Malik senses my intentions, although his yami is too far gone with pain to care.

"Ryou..." Malik asks, his voice a terrified whisper. "What's happened to you?"

"It used to be that you couldn't be told apart from your yami." I hiss at him. "You would blur and merge and you were really more like one-and-a-half then two. Now it is I who fades."

I lean my weight on my heel, and I feel the Rod shatter beneath me. Ishtar screams in pain, and Malik's eyes widen before going blank. Malik would die too, he was so closely bound to his yami. And I didn't care. I thought maybe I'd feel something at the death of the one I once called friend, but all there is is an empty void, to be filled with more pain, day after long, lonely day.

Somehow I know that now, even with the last light and dark dying at my feet, my yami won't return to me. Bakura is too far gone. But that doesn't mean he's not with me. I laugh, and it takes on a hysterical edge. No, Bakura is gone. But now there is me!

In Malik's dying eyes, I see myself reflected with my yami by my side.

Sometimes, one-and-a-half is more then two.

()()()()()

WSJ: -,- Zzzzzzz...

Ryou: ^^;;;;; Reviews please...

God bless minna-san!