At long last he’d found him. It had taken a while, longer than he’d have liked, but Bakura had finally mastered his new form and used it to locate his former host. Of all the people he’d considered contacting, Ryou had been the only one he could think of saying anything meaningful to. Why was that? In truth, Bakura didn’t know, even with an entire mainframe at his command he couldn’t figure it out. It was possible he still felt attachment to the boy who’d hosted him for so long. He couldn’t call it affection, really, but it’d been nice to have someone in his power who fought back, who resisted, who argued.
Computers didn’t make great conversation.
Ryou’s apartment looked the same as far as he could tell from the CCTV cameras outside and webcam on his computer. In the few months nothing much appeared to have changed for him. Same city, same apartment; without him, Bakura supposed, things must be fairly uneventful. Good thing he’d come along to change that.
Bakura waited, watching through the webcam on Ryou’s computer until he was sat in front of it. He made the screen go black. Then two large words appeared on it.
They stayed there for a moment until they were replaced by the words: