Bakura strips off his shirt and tosses it carelessly onto the bed, reaching for a clean black one to put under the coat. His jeans shortly joined the discarded shirt, and after another moment he emerged, fastening the front and looking at Pepper. The red did suit him, though not quite as well as it had when his complexion was dark. Still, it played well, and the cut of the coat fell briskly from his shoulders. He hadn't buttoned it up all the way yet, the collar parted for the moment, and the wolf mask neatly tucked under one arm.

"Well?" he said, feeling rather self-conscious.