Hey y'all! I've officially finished my first semester of college and my last exam! I think I've passed them all. Hopefully. Anyway, sorry this is a touch late - I crashed today and just didn't want to move, so I binge read a bunch of BNHA fics. That's honestly bordering on becoming a special interest for me, woops. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

CW: Mentions of physically abusive partner, spiralling, excessive drinking, period discussion, sensory overload, intrusive thoughts, dissociation/depersonalisation

"I can't believe you're inviting Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee over," Bakura complained as Ryou scurried back and forth from the kitchen to the table with glasses, alcohol, chips, dip, and various other snacks.

"I wasn't up to make a campaign this week," Ryou protested, "and as much as you don't like him, Atem writes a fucking good one."

That, Bakura couldn't deny. It almost made games night with the Pharaoh tolerable. "Couldn't he just give the campaign to Yugi and let him DM? I don't want to deal with him tonight."

"Then you don't need to play." Ryou his eyebrows, looking up at Bakura from his board. "But I am. I've been working hard all week and I fucking deserve the break." He shook his head. "Besides, Mai's coming over."

That made Bakura perk up a little. Mai was probably the only one of Ryou's immediate friends that he could stand aside from Yugi. The twerp wasn't so bad when the Pharaoh was removed from his hip. "Why didn't you say that first?"

Ryou snorted. "Because I didn't want you texting her and figuring out a way to completely wreck Atem's storyline."

"I would never-" Bakura protested. Ryou raised an eyebrow. "-Okay, first of all, it happened once, second of all, fuck you."

"I don't think Malik would like it very much if you did." Ryou grinned, then winced and clutched his stomach.

Bakura grimaced. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Ryou muttered. After a second, he released his stomach, though stiffly. "I just need a painkiller."

"You've already had a tramadal today," Bakura protested. "That'll fuck you up if you drink." Ryou rolled his eyes. Bakura leaned back against the wall, chewing his tongue. "Besides, you've had worse."

"I swear to fucking gods," Ryou hissed, "I'm not in the mood for a joke about the Ring right now." Bakura fell silent, and Ryou sighed. "I'm sorry. I know you're trying to help."

Bakura shook his head. "Don't be. It was a bad time." It was always a bad time - he didn't know why he bothered trying to make those jokes seem funny anymore. He yawned. "Eat something first at least."

Ryou sighed. "No, you're right. I'll leave it until tomorrow."

"You should eat anyway."

"Like you're one to talk about properly taking care of yourself." Ryou pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck. Sorry."

Bakura frowned. "Are you sure you're up for tonight?"

"Yeah," Ryou sighed, "I just... this hasn't happened in a few months. I'm just out of sorts."

Bakura managed a small nod. "Is the testosterone not working?"

"No, it is." Ryou wandered over to the table and lowered himself into one of the cushioned chairs. "Some people just get an irregular period now and then anyway."

Bakura managed another small nod. "Do you have pads? I can run down to the store and get them for you." Ryou probably would have felt too uncomfortable to go himself.

Ryou chewed his lip. "If you wouldn't mind," he muttered after a minute. "I had a few shoved down the back of the press, but-"

"It's fine." Bakura grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch. "What kind?"

"Whatever nighttime ones have the most little droplet things on the side." Ryou leaned his elbows on the table and checked his phone. "Would you get some vodka too? Yugi's got a drinking game he wants to do."

"Sure." Bakura tugged on a pair of shoes.

Ryou leaned back in the chair a little bit. He seemed a little easier now. "Are you sure you don't want to invite Malik tonight?"

He did. But he didn't want to admit it. Not to Ryou, and not to himself. Malik wouldn't want to come anyway - not with Atem there. "I'm good," he called. "I need a bit of... separate time I guess." Ryou nodded. "Do you need anything else?"

Ryou glanced back at the fridge. "Get some low dose painkillers. Knowing Yugi, I don't have enough to go around for this drinking game."

Bakura nodded and shrugged his jacket on. It had taken him a month to find a good red jacket, but it was worth it. "Okay. I'll be back in a few minutes." He slipped outside and down into the street.

The nearest convenience store was just across the road and he made his way inside with his hands in his pockets. It was one of the few he never stole from - purely because it was near him, and he kind of liked the old lady who ran it. She was behind the counter again as he made his way over with two packets of pads and three of painkillers.

She whistled and scanned them. "Someone's dying."

"No kidding." Bakura shoved the pads into his pocket and handed her a few hundred yen. "I think we're doing drinking games tonight as well, so we'll all be dead."

"With the little one?" Bakura nodded and the lady grimaced. "Christ, son, don't try to keep up with him. If I didn't know better, from what you told me, I'd say he had Irish blood in him. Went there once - if you do, never drink as much as them. It's in their blood. You won't survive."

"I'll keep that in mind for when I never go on holiday." Bakura took his change.

"Eh, you'll get there when you're not a student anymore."

"I'm not even a student yet - you overestimate how long I'll be living." He had to wait another few months to get in - just until January. He pocketed his change and walked back to the house. An odd feeling was stuck in his gut, and he shook his head. He was fine. He didn't need Malik to have a good night. He didn't need Malik.

When he got back to the apartment, Yugi and Atem had arrived. He grunted a greeting and slouched into the kitchen to hide the pads from them, and to get a beer. Fuck the lady - he needed it.

He only emerged when he heard another knock on the door and Mai walked in, dressed in tight jeans and a sparkly shirt. "Got anything stronger than beer?"

"Not for you, sugartits." Bakura shot her with his finger but passed her the vodka mix he had already made her. He drummed his fingers on the neck of his bottle. "Did you get my present?"

Mai snorted as she took a sip. "You mean the thirteen packets of stolen pads?" Bakura's face heated up. "Yeah, I got them. A little weird, but needed, so thanks."

Bakura grumbled and took another sip. He didn't care. He didn't care if Mai liked it or not. Why would he?

She frowned a little. "Ryou said you were doing better."

"Yeah." Bakura shrugged. "I guess." She didn't say anything. "I've actually been going outside without nearly dying." He took another sip. "And I've been-" How to put it? "-hanging out with Malik."

Mai raised her eyebrows. "Hanging out, fucking, or actually dating?"

Bakura chewed his lip. "We went on a hike the other day."

"Holy shit." She grinned. "You went on a date."

"It was not a fucking date," Bakura huffed. He definitely didn't think about their picnic and how he had practically laid in Malik's lap. He opened his mouth to explain exactly how it was not a date, and then frowned. He reached up and grabbed her chin, tilting her head up. "You're getting better at make-up." Mai pulled her chin away. "Did anyone else notice?"

"Ryou gave me a 'we'll talk later' look," she muttered after a minute, "but the others didn't."

"Fucking oblivious cunts." Bakura glared - not at her. He wasn't sure who he was glaring at. "What's the dickhead's name?"

"Bakura-"

"I'm going to fuck him up."

"Bakura, your five foot fuck ass could not hurt him." Mai rolled her eyes and took a much bigger gulp of her drink. "Besides, I dumped him. If he comes near me again, I'm calling the police."

"Yeah, cause they can do so much better than a wanted thief that fought the Pharaoh's guards for ten years." Bakura scowled. The make-up really was good. If the light hadn't caught her cheek, he didn't think he would have seen the purple discolouration under her eye. "I could stab him for you."

"No stabbing." Mai pointed at him. "And no bringing this up with the others. Agreed? I just want to enjoy the night - not talk about a shitty mistake."

After a moment, Bakura grumbled his agreement and drained his beer. He needed another. His chest felt too tight and as he pulled one out of the fridge, he dug his nails into the palm of his free hand. He hated when Mai got like that.

Thankfully, the forced small talk ended when Anzu and Miho walked in, and they all migrated to the board. Bakura still hated Atem, but fuck he could write a good campaign. He started it off in Domino during a zombie apocalypse and led them through a complicated way to try and end the apocalypse before any more civilians were turned. And they weren't allowed to just kill civilians. Bakura checked.

He had, of course, picked a thief. Ryou had chosen an elf, Miho a healer, Mai a ninja, and Yugi had taken the bard. He seemed to be working towards that one tumblr post that Bakura had sent him; 'I fucked my way into this and I'm going to fuck my way out of it'.

Bakura just kept disappearing down to McDonalds every time he had the chance, so between fights, they had to go get him, and whenever there was a fight going on, he was just ordering a Big Mac. It drove Atem up the wall enough that he had one of the zombies burn the McDonalds.

By the end of the night, Bakura was lying on the floor, giddy enough to laugh at nearly every attempt Yugi made to seduce something, and they finished up after the third boss at two a.m. - which Yugi also tried to seduce.

Once everyone was gone, the pit of ice started to form in his stomach again. Ryou knelt next to him. "Are you sure you're okay?" He murmured. "You seemed off again tonight."

Bakura waved him off - physically. He physically waved his hand. "M'fine," he slurred, "I jus' need sleep." He staggered to his feet and Ryou had to catch him to make sure he didn't fall. "M'fine."

"So you keep saying." Ryou pursed his lips. "Bakura, you need to go back-"

Bakura stormed into his room and slammed the door before Ryou could even finish the sentence.

Bakura had been standing too close to him ever since they'd arrived at the market. Everyone was standing too close. They wouldn't be if he- Malik shook his head. "You doing okay?" Bakura asked. He had to lean in even closer so Malik could hear him over the chatter of the people around them.

"Yeah. I'm fine." He was. He knew there was going to be a lot of people - it was the Saturday walking market. Bakura had warned him about the amount of people. Malik took a sip of the orange juice from the small bottle in his hand. It was still cold, condensation dripping down the plastic from the ice it had been kept in, numbing his hand.

"Is there anywhere you want to go?"

Home. No, he wasn't meant to do that. He moved his drink to his other hand and wiped his palm on the sides of his pants. Bakura had promised to show him the market.

"The temple is pretty nice if you need a break."

Malik just nodded again, and Bakura took his hand to lead him through the crowd. Malik definitely didn't like it just because he needed something to squeeze. Someone bumped his shoulder and Bakura snarled a warning in their general direction. Malik tried to move a little faster but the crowd was blocking them.

Bakura squeezed his hand. Malik hardly processed it. Everything was too loud. Too many people crowded on the narrow streets between crappy table stalls with tarp rooves and tourist-y garbage for sale. Too many smells from the food stalls selling tofu, meat, seafood, curry, rice, chips, soda, crickets. Too much light coming from the fairylights strung up back-and-forth across the road, the streetlamps, the personal lights the vendors had brought. Too many sweaty tourists shouting in English, too many locals complaining about the tourists, too many people stopping to take photos, not noticing the people beside them, crashing into people. Too many.

"Bakura." Malik pulled his hand. "Bakura, how far is the temple?"

After a moment, Bakura processed the question and acknowledged it with a grunt. "A few minutes." Or maybe he had responded straight away.

Everything felt muted. Like a transparent blanket had been thrown over him. The voices, the smells, the colours, all seemed distant.

"Is it quieter there?"

"Yeah; barely any tourists go there." Everything but Bakura's voice.

Malik couldn't breathe. He nodded. Quiet. Yes, quieter. It would be quieter. He needed quiet. He kept his gaze on the patchy grey road beneath his feet as they shuffled along, following the cracked yellow lines. If he raised it, the world would go red or black and he wasn't sure which one was worse.

He flinched when Bakura finally pulled him in another direction - into the temple grounds. He could still hear them. All of them. Still too loud.

Bakura didn't stop moving once they were beyond the gate - he led Malik around the red-walled structure, behind the smaller white one with the golden roof and nagas crawling up the stairs, right through to the back gate. Only a few tattered houses stood there, pink and green and blue with patched wooden doors.

"Is this better?"

Malik stared at Bakura. Strands of hair hung in his eyes, slightly obscuring the other's already blurry face. "What?"

"Is this better?" Bakura repeated, squeezing Malik's hand. Malik forced himself to nod. Even the air seemed too loud. "Take another drink."

Malik did, but the taste was too much. He sank down onto the ground, crossing his legs. They burned too much to stand. "It hurts."

"Your back?"

Malik shook his head. Then nodded. "Everything." Everything was too much and he couldn't deal with it.

Bakura knelt down beside him and carefully reached out, cupping Malik's face. "Where are we?" Somewhere. Fuck. No, that wasn't right. "What did you just do?" Get out- "What age are you?" Se- Si- Twen- Thir- "What's your name?"

"I-" He shook his head. Why couldn't he answer anything? It was simple. Na- no. A- no. Ma- no. What was it? It was too much. He squeezed his eyes shut. Too many questions. Stop.

"What's my name?" Bakura asked. "I need you to tell me my name."

Malik tried to look up at him. He knew this one. "Bakura."

"Good." Bakura smiled - not like his old Ryou smiles, but a genuine one. It made his eyes look brighter. Everything behind him was blurry, like it was photoshopped. Everything was dark. "What am I wearing?"

"Um-" He glanced down. "Red hoodie. Black t-shirt. Jeans. Red docs. Gold earring. Gold chain."

"Good," Bakura soothed again. "You're doing well. Can you breathe?" Malik's breath still caught in his chest, but he nodded. "Good. Where do I live?"

"With Ryou."

"No, what street? Apartment number?"

His forehead pinched. Focus. "Number forty two, Toshai Hinode-ku, Domino."

"Now what's your name?"

Malik took a slow breath. "Malik Ishtar."

"Age?"

"I'm twenty two."

"Where are you living?"

"The Maraia penthouse, Toridas-ku, Domino."

"What did you do today?"

Malik took another slow breath - in for five, and out for seven. He tried to draw it from his stomach, not letting his shoulders move. "I got up, I had cereal for breakfast, I got dressed, I went over to yours, we went for lunch, and then we came here." The air wasn't too loud anymore. He could deal with it. His legs still burned, and his back, but it wasn't as bad.

Bakura's thumb rubbed the side of his cheek. The world around his face didn't seem quite so dark anymore. "Are you back with me?" Malik took a deep breath and nodded. He was back. "What happened?"

Malik just shook his head. "I don't know." His voice cracked. "It was just too much."

Bakura took his hand and squeezed it. "That's okay," he murmured. "It was pretty loud." Malik returned the squeeze. "Do you want to go home?"

Malik shook his head. "You wanted to come out tonight - I don't want to ruin it."

Bakura snorted. "Mal, I couldn't care less about the market. I just thought you'd like the food here."

Malik's face heated up. "Oh." He licked his lips. "Well I did. It was a lot better than the hotel."

Bakura smiled again. "Good to know. I'll need to take you out roughing it more often." He glanced towards the main entrance of the temple. The setting sun glinted off the shards of coloured glass that made the gate's wall gold. "Although maybe not here."

"That might be good." Malik rolled his shoulders. "I still want to do something with you." He was feeling better. He was fine. It wasn't a big deal.

Bakura looked back at him. "How about we go and see a film?" He suggested. "Crazy Rich Asians is in the cinema here. We could go to that."

"Are you sure?" Malik pushed his fringe out of his eyes. He needed to invest in gel, or something to keep it away. Or maybe a haircut. When did he last have one? Fuck it.

"Of course." Bakura stood up and pulled Malik up with him. "But you're buying the nachos."

Malik wrinkled his nose. "Why do you want nachos?"

"They taste good, obviously." Bakura rolled his eyes. "And I don't want to have numb lips for two days because I ate too much popcorn."

Malik sighed and allowed Bakura to lead him out of the back gate. It would be a longer walk to the cinema, but it meant they didn't need to go back into the market. "You know, that wouldn't happen if you actually drank enough with the popcorn."

"So what you're saying is you'll buy me a drink too?"

Malik rolled his eyes but smiled. "Sure." They walked down to the cinema in relative silence. Only a few people were there, and it was late enough on a school night that none of them had children with them. They bought the tickets, and Bakura led the way into theatre two, carrying a box of nachos with cheese sauce, a box of popcorn, and a diet coke.

They sat beside each other at the back so they could push up the small armrest and curl into each other without anyone else seeing them, and made comments about which characters had the biggest dick energy, and who was gay as shit ("I don't care if they actually confirmed it - Rachel is absolutely bi and had a thing for Peik Lin.").

And they did not stop muttering to each other when they saw the wedding scene. They did not stare as the floor was flooded or clutch each others' hand as Can't Help Falling In Love was played. They absolutely did not sit in silence for a full minute after the film ended, still processing it even though it wasn't even the end of the film.

Bakura dumped his empty boxes in the bin as they walked out of the cinema, credits still playing. "I don't care. Astrid told him to fuck off on the way to a wedding where she'd be judged so much for not bringing a date - big dick energy."

"Eleanor bought an entire hotel because two employees were racist," Malik protested. "That was the biggest dick energy I've ever seen. Like, fuck, that made me feel small."

Bakura grinned. "And we both know that isn't true."

Malik nudged him, trying not to laugh. "Okay, but as gay as you are, you can't say that you didn't want her to step on you the second she did that."

Bakura wrinkled his nose. "I can honestly say that I didn't." He paused. "Oliver, however, would own my ass." Malik snorted. "Sorry, you'll get joint custody."

"Do I get it on weekends at least?"

Bakura smiled. "Thursday and Friday too."

"Lucky me." Malik squeezed his hand. "Thanks for tonight." Bakura looked up at him. "You know. With the market."

"Oh." Bakura shrugged. "It's no problem. Besides, I wanted to see this movie with someone, so it worked out."

Malik smiled. "Yeah, I guess so." He paused. "But you're still wrong about Astrid."

"Bitch," Bakura laughed, "I will fucking fight you on this." He choked on his laugh and coughed into his elbow.

Malik frowned, focusing on his breathing. He hadn't noticed it since the walk, but Bakura got out of breath very fast. "You okay?" Bakura nodded, taking a slow breath. There was a slight wheeze in his throat. Malik chewed his lip. "Hey, I need to go get a checkup soon. Have you gotten one recently?"

"Never," Bakura admitted.

Malik's eyebrows shot up. "What about your shots?"

Bakura wrinkled his nose. "Don't want to get them. I don't want someone I don't know poking me with a needle."

"Bakura, you need to get your shots," Malik sighed. Bakura just shrugged. "Okay, I'm dragging you with me. We're both getting everything done."

"Everything?"

"Immunisations, eyesight checks, hearing check, everything." Malik shook his head. "Gods, how are you still alive?"

"Fuck if I know." Bakura winked at him. "The gods want me to suffer, I guess. It'd be no fun if I just died because of fucking smallpox or some shit."

Malik's half-smile fell. He slipped his hand into Bakura's. "I don't want you dying. On any of us, but especially on me. Fuck, I just got you back-"

Bakura frowned and looked away. "I've been back for a few years-"

"But I didn't know." Malik shook his head. The road was quiet now, only the occasional car passing them. "You think I wouldn't have come back sooner?"

"No," Bakura admitted. "I'm sort of still surprised you even want me around now. I fucked up-"

"You're the reason I'm still alive." Malik squeezed Bakura's hand, slowing to a halt at a yield sign near the alley they used to get back to Ryou's apartment. "You helped me get rid of my darker half at no benefit to yourself."

"Yeah, well..." Bakura kicked at a loose piece of crumbled wall. "You actually helped me too. It was one of the first times I did something Zorc didn't want me to do." He chewed the corner of his lip. "I still would have thought you'd want nothing to do with me."

"Well you're wrong." Malik squeezed his hand again. It helped him. "I had some shit to go through, but I would have come back." He shook his head. "That probably sounds creepy, given we only knew each other for a month or so, but-"

"No," Bakura mumbled, "I know what you mean." He sighed. "It's different. It's easier to be with people who knew what happened, and especially ones that don't try to separate everything bad you did from how you are now."

"Yeah," Malik sighed. "Yeah. I needed a lot of counselling to get that into my head - that I still did things, even without my darker half. I still took control of people's minds, and killed them, and tried to rule the world. And that I can't just pretend it didn't happen, but- but it's not... It's not who I am right now."

Bakura hummed. His brow was furrowing down, eyes squinting at the sidewalk, at one particular crack. "Did it help?" He muttered. "The counselling?"

Malik looked over at him, but Bakura refused to meet his gaze. "It did," he whispered. "A lot."

After a few moments, Bakura huffed and began walking again. Malik followed him. "Okay, I guess I could take an afternoon off and go to a few check-ups with you," he grumbled. Malik waited. "And I might ring to see if what's-her-name has a free appointment this week."

"Yeah?" Malik smiled.

"Yeah, yeah." Bakura's shoulders hunched. "Just don't tell Ryou, or I'll never hear the end of it if it doesn't work out."

Eyo, hope you liked this chapter! Please review and I'll update every day from now until Christmas Eve since I don't actually have a Christmas one-shot planned for this year (Sorry!). See you nerds tomorrow (or later today lol).