Memories

by FanGirl16

I run, my eyes so wide so I can capture every sight of him. He isn't moving, his form still and broken. No, "No, no, no. Bakura! Bakura, stay with me!" "I didn't think you'd come" Bakura's voice is hoarse and raspy, completely different to his usual tone. Citronshipping/thiefshipping. Yaoi. Happy birthday, Jem

The cafe was surprisingly crammed for once. It wasn't like the usual business workers with their laptops, only coming in to access the free wifi. For once it was genuinely packed with customers, some of which actually entered for the decent food they served. Though the cafe was mostly common for its drinks, consisting of coffee and tea. That was the choice that urged Bakura to go to the desk at the front. They had a range of the types of coffee, usually black or cappuccinos, which were more popular. However, my friend had walked over to view the list of teas they offered. Since he was British and accustomed to consuming a lot of the English beverages I had noticed he much preferred that than my coffee. Though not many people here seemed to like my black coffee either. Bakura usually wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smell, but also the darkness of the drink. Considering he was used to darkness it had surprised me how much he detested this drink. I, on the other hand, preferred the hot, strong caffeine as it made my mind more awake and shocked my body. I always had the habit of stirring the water, though there was nothing to stir. It was probably just a way of making my hands move as I am not the type of patient person that would spend hours without fidgeting. It annoyed me to even think of that.

That is what I ended up doing, resting my chin against my palm as my other hand automatically stirred the coffee in my cup. The spoon was probably rusted by the time I had removed it to take a sip but it was too hot to guzzle down. The waitress had just left, issuing me with a napkin I didn't need and wiped down Bakura's side of the table. It was still damp as I waited, the water soaking into the wood with every second that passed. I watched it, bored as I knew the white haired boy was the only person who could entertain me. Regardless of us just working together for the time being, I had decided that it was time I took him out for a drink. The term was not for us 'dating' as we were far from it. I was interested in only paying him back for letting me examine the Millennium ring around his neck. He seemed particularly possessive about it, claiming that it was his and no one could touch it. Still, I was the stronger one and it didn't take me long to seize the gold. Surprisingly though, at the mere touch of my fingers Bakura had allowed me to examine it, watching me intently. The gaze was almost frightening with its intensity but I could hardly call it threatening. Bakura seemed to look at me like that a lot, watching me like a hawk and taking in every one of my body movements. It was unnerving but I enjoyed the attention.

Bakura's slender back was to me whilst he ordered tea though, his dark eyes no longer watching me with that odd gaze. There seemed so much emotion in it I didn't recognise. Human emotions that I never assumed Bakura capable of feeling, never mind showing it to me in his eyes. I had often thought it was Ryou, Bakura cruelly swapping his soul to trick me into thinking it was Ryou. However, Bakura would always snap back into his own personality whenever I snapped at him for staring. It was extremely awkward but for some bizarre reason it seemed I had seen those eyes before, that pure emotion in someone else's eyes. I assumed Odion, as he was the only person I could fully trust and who loved me completely, even more than Ishizu. But, in a strange way it hadn't been brown eyes that looked at me like that.

I growled and shook my head furiously. I was thinking too much into things and especially when it appeared a really sloppy idea. What was I even suggesting when I couldn't even recognise those feelings? Bakura always confused me, making my head fuzzy as I tried to figure him out. He was unpredictable, much like me but he had more experience in hiding himself, bottling his memories up. I knew he was from the past, a notorious thief king who murdered and stole freely. I had worked it out, the scriptures in the tombs being a huge giveaway. In my lifetime I had never expected to meet the king of thieves or be drinking with
him. He was oddly civil, though our first meeting was far from that. Instead, getting to know him was interesting. He was dark, mysterious, one that would keep to himself, even in my presence. He much preferred being alone but with Ryou's consciousness bickering with him in his head it was understandable why he was so bitter. I found his bitterness amusing. It was fun to wind him up, see how far I could go to make his face red with rage or to see him lash out. His temper was quick, and listing these qualities in my head reminded me how much alike we were.

Bakura had obviously been through a lot, probably seeing death more times than he could count. It would make sense since he had been a murderer, slaughtering the Palace guards in order to retrieve the millennium ring. I assumed he had an attachment to it that was almost
addictive. He was clearly possessive of it and with its power I could understand why he wanted it. However, his past was a mystery. He had not opened up to me though he seemed comfortable enough around me. I had tried coaxing it out of him many times but it resulted in him shouting and smashing things. I decided it best to let him tell me when he felt the time was right. That day would eventually come. I was curious though and desperate to see what had made Bakura like that, a harsh, cruel being. His past was a sensitive subject and even asking what he had looked like annoyed him. From then on he had been quiet, being careful not to trigger anything which would make me ask him again. I had imagined his body, how beautiful he would have looked. In Ryou's body he was still attractive but pale skin contrasted too much with mine. It was like snow and sand. His skin was delicate to any touch, marking too easily. He was cold, icy and white. I, however was darker, my skin a caramel brown. I was warm, even fiery when my temper arose. We were complete opposites and yet I knew more about him than anyone would. Ryou probably saw some aspects to Bakura I couldn't, but Bakura was skilled in locking his memories away. It was as if it was
too painful to witness.

Although that fact scared me, I was interested in knowing his secrets. What had happened to make him change? Images ran through my head of his white hair. I was sure Ryou was his reincarnation due to their similarities. Besides, Ryou was the only human who could withstand the power of the ring. Any other person would have died instantly. Only someone close to Bakura could be the host of his soul. I deduced that as a more likely occurrence. With that I knew Bakura's past self would look like Ryou but due to the environment his skin would have been like mine. It would have been sand, a beautiful brown that was perfectly tanned. His eyes could have been brown. In my thoughts he would have looked odd compared to his body now, but he would have been glorious. I would have longed to see that, know what he had looked like in the past. But, knowing how he actually swapped to this body is saddening even to me. It means he had died. He had felt the meaning of death, feeling himself growing cold and lifeless. He must have felt pain unimaginably, especially being able to accept that you are going to die. He knew his fate and yet was willing to die for it. He felt himself pass, felt his soul vanish. He must have been alone during that, knowing he would be on his own as he died.

My violet eyes glanced up from my coffee. I stared up at Bakura's back, his white hair dripping down his shoulders. Were they soaked in his blood? Those white strands a dark crimson as he lay in the dark dying? I had never given sympathy before and I knew Bakura never wanted that, but there was no way I couldn't offer that to him. I had been near death only once in my life when those disgusting marks were carved into my flesh. My blood had stained the slab I was tied to. The floor dripped wet blood as my flesh pulled. My body had felt light and I was so cold, but I recovered. My fear was incredibly strong and death was
close to me. Bakura never revived. His body was still and limp. Was there absolutely no one who was with him during that time of his life? He must have been so scared, knowing his heart was going to stop beating. Was he forgotten?

Bakura stood at the desk, his thin fingers tapping impatiently on the wooden top. In the background the machine for the hot drinks hummed loudly. I watched him, studied his every movement, the way his nails scraped the desk. His long hair swung down his back, the blue shirt clinging to his slender frame. I was surprised at how small he looked in that moment, how vulnerable he seemed to be amongst the taller, older men. Bakura stood out like a sore thumb, his pale skin flushed due to the warmth of the cafe. No doubt my cheeks were the same. The coffee steamed in my hands but I was too distracted to drink it. It remained half full on the table as I examined Bakura closely. His head turned slightly as if he knew I was watching but he didn't look in my direction. He stayed staring at the machine with narrowed eyes, a familiar scowl on his face. My brows furrowed in worry at that expression. Though it was definitely attractive for me I could see his pain. His white eyelashes fluttered in the light, his brown eyes always aware of his surroundings. But, he didn't look back at me. It was like
he was ignoring my stares, like he expected me to be doing this. I couldn't look away though and continued staring at him. My eyes clearly showed my sympathy and in a way I was glad he never turned around. I would have been scolded for sure. Still, this is what he gets as there is nothing for me to do but make assumptions.

I bit my lip, nibbling on the skin. It was surprising how much I wanted Bakura, how much I enjoyed his company through the short time we had spent together. It felt like I knew him much more than I did, though if I were interviewed about him I could hardly answer the questions. I didn't know his surname, his least favourite food, his favourite animal. Any of these personal information I had no idea of. He was unwilling to share the details. Granted we had only been working together for a few weeks but I had been wanting to know him better. He was a stranger to me but I felt as if we had been closer before, like I knew him. It was as if we had met before but of course that was impossible. I blink and look down. Hopefully I will be able to pry some things from him. He seemed okay with letting me in and controlling him but he was always quiet. I sigh at his reluctance. It annoyed me but his business was not mine but he seemed to be hiding something important. I glance down at my coffee, the black water now drinkable. It was warm enough not to burn my tongue so I lifted it to my lips and
took another sip. The flavour was delightful, filling my senses and scorching down my throat. I coughed for a moment and placed the cup back down. It was still a bit too hot so I decided to look back at Bakura again. When he is seated again I can probably ask him something. Still, I need to be subtle about it.

Movement from my left caught my eye before I could glance at Bakura. The movement was swift and almost graceful, like a floating spectre. Except this person looked more rough than angelic. It was definitely a man, one who seemed to do everything dramatic. His hair was a dark ebony, almost the colour of Ishizu's though hers was much darker and definitely cleaner. That man was taller than me but his skin was a mucky white. What a man would be doing in that cafe I had no idea. I hadn't noticed him order anything but most people sitting in there were using up the internet connection. With a look like that it was no wonder he was in there scouring the web. I had no use for technology. It was ridiculous and a waste of time. Bakura seemed to agree with me on that aspect though I had occasionally seen him on his laptop a few times. He must have got an interest from watching Ryou using it.

The huge man blocked my sight of Bakura as he shifted to collect his jacket off the back of his chair. I watched him with narrowed eyes, annoyed that I had to wait to see Bakura. The man managed to slip his jacket on, one of dark leather. I could imagine the man owning a motorbike like me but it was extremely stereotypical to judge the man like that. Still, he was only missing a biker's moustache and sideburns and he'd be perfect. However, it wasn't that that properly caught my attention. As he passed by my table he happened to turn and glance at me. His eyes were a light purple shade, much like mine but the light caught them at a perfect angle. His pupils were dilated until the irises almost swallowed the dark pupils. He glared at me, a familiar expression though I didn't recognise the man at all. I had seen those eyes before, just as I had seen Bakura's emotion filled gaze. I scanned the man's face with awe, wondering exactly where I had seen them. It was curious how I was staring at the man like I had studied Bakura. They were so similar but entirely different. As I moved up the man's cheek to his right eye my eyes widened. A long, jagged scar ran down his face, his flesh pierced hideously. It had caught his eyelid and protruded down his cheek until it was level with his nose. The sight of such a scar was so familiar. I had seen it with those eyes, touched that face and stroked the cut skin. I didn't know the man as his face and features were the wrong distance and length.

He had walked out of the cafe before I could ask him anything but even if I had it wouldn't have solved anything. What would I have asked him? How did you get the scar, why are your eyes that colour? It was absurd. I realised how nosy I was but I could hardly ask a total stranger such questions. I would probably have been beaten to a pulp in the alley outside. My eyes stay wide though, unable to comprehend how recognisable those details were. I had seen them before. I knew those eyes. I stared in a slight panic, my head beginning to ache as I tried to remember where they had come from. I brought my hand up to my hair, tangling in the strands. My mind was pounding, aching with strange memories but none that would show me that face. Maybe Bakura would know, probably someone we had spoken to or passed in the street. But why did it hurt so much to remember? I glanced up to where Bakura had been standing at the desk. He had moved closer to the till, his hands stretching on the counter in impatience, beckoning for the tea. However, his expression changed, no longer a scowl. His gaze was almost lost in space, staring into the distance and that is when I noticed it. Bakura turned slightly so I could see his face. Not all of it was visible due to the angle and his fringe but I could easily see his eyes. A sudden image of those violet eyes flashed in my head, the scar a light, jagged mark on his right cheek.

I choked on my saliva, my eyes wide with utter shock as I found myself somewhere else. My head was swimming with confusion as I was sent flashes of unknown memories, faces and touches I had never felt in my life. But out of all of them was Bakura's eyes. That gaze of violet, the emotion in their depths. That scar was beautiful yet hideous at the same time. Its cut was deliberate, rough like a piece of art, but it was disturbing to look at. I witnessed memories in my head, flashbacks almost of a life I never lived, a name that wasn't mine, yet I was the same person. I shared a time long ago, my body in the present a reincarnation of someone before. This heart was beating after being dead for so long.

Bakura, I have to find Bakura. I run, swinging the khopesh I had stolen from one of the guards earlier. They didn't suspect me anyway as I am part of the Palace scribes and wouldn't cause treason. Oh, how wrong they were. I am far from loyal to them. My only trust is for Bakura, my moonlight. My eyes are narrowed, harsh and cruel with blood lust as I cut down the last of the guards that were in my way. They were strong but not strong or as quick as me as their throats are now cut and bleeding down the corpse. I haven't got time to waste on them though as much as I'd enjoy watching the crimson blood stain the tiled floor. The other guards will no doubt be coming soon to investigate but I have luck on my side as the chaos in the throne room is distracting them. They won't know I have killed those men either as I am one who was assigned the job of protecting the Pharaoh's secrets and spells. This gives me an edge and an opportunity as I know Bakura needs me. That asshole just had to pick tonight to invade the Palace. He didn't even bother telling me and wanted to burden himself with the task. I growl. He could have at least notified me the night before.

The curved blade drips wet with the men's blood, some specks of flesh dangling from the sharp edge from where I sliced. The stench of copper is revolting but I swallow and try to block the smell as to not distract me. The last thing I need is to let my guard down now and be caught red handed. It won't matter once I am safely with the thief again as I know his strength and capability of protecting me. He is strong and skilled so I know he will easily hide me and we can escape quickly without being seen together. Even if we were I would choose never to return to this damned place. It is nothing but a curse, tainted with the blood of innocents. Nothing but death occurs here and I don't even recall a job the Pharaoh did which actually helped the people of Egypt. He is worshipped like a God, like he is Ra and leader of the earth and skies and yet he hasn't done anything to help. Nature is the only god. The water in the Nile helped keep the people alive, crops grown outside of the village were the source of food. That is what is vital, even those plants are used for medicine to cure health
issues. Even so, I don't believe there is a god. Not after what Bakura has been through, what he has suffered and still he has no vengeance. Not until the Pharaoh is lying dead.

I grit my teeth though as that means Bakura has to enter here and make a scene. He is no assassin and can't kill the entirety of the royalists all gathered in the throne room. His ka may be strong but the priests hold the items and even that is enough to surpass Bakura. I know he isn't stupid and that he has planned his attack but the feeling of dread still lingers in my stomach. He didn't discuss his actions with me first; too stubborn to want my help, but I knew he was strong enough to fight. I have seen him do it many times, killing the dangerous villains who needed to be sent to Anubis. However, I just wish he trusted me more. We have been together for years but even that time was not enough to make him tell me everything. I love him, so much that my heart cries every time he touches me. His hands are rough, skin burning but I love the thrill of it, the adrenaline of being in his life. He is mine and I am not about to lose him. He better not have done something ridiculously stupid. He is one to rush into things, even if he has planned he doesn't execute every part of the plan. I have given him valuable information about passages and safe entrances into here but from the loud bang of the front gates he has ignored me.

I continue running, relieved when no other guards pass my way. They must all be trying to save the Pharaoh, as I assume that is where they will all be. The amount of guards recruited in the Palace are usually hundreds and that many surrounding Bakura shouldn't be a problem. Their weapons are no match for his ka and he can kill them even if he were blinded. But the fact that I see no one at all makes me uneasy. It makes my job easier in getting to Bakura's side with no trouble but I would at least prefer a challenge. The blood staining my white robe makes it heavy, weighing me down as I move. My reactions are a bit rusty but I am not injured luckily. With no one in sight I take a quick turn down the main corridor of the Palace. Getting through the gardens was easy and I had plenty of places to hide me but in the hallways I have no cover. Still, I would rather risk going the quicker way and save Bakura in case the items were too much for him. Damn that stubborn bastard. My brows furrow as I turn the corner to reveal the longest and brightly lit corridor. The walls are as clean as ever, the tiled flooring shiny and gold as always. I stop for a moment, the sounds of nothing echoing to my ears. The place is silent and showing no signs of any guards here either. This is the only place leading to the throne room so I would have expected at least two people down here.

It is far too quiet and normal. I had distinctly heard the crash of the gates and the sound of hooves on the tiles. There is no doubt Bakura came in and invaded the rooms. But, as I glance warily around the place is untouched. I grip the hilt of my sword tighter as a precaution. It might be a trap for all I know, and Bakura is a skilled thief and especially good at moving silently. However, that makes me uneasy as well as he would have made a huge noise and scene at his battle with the Pharaoh. For that matter I can't even hear or sense the king either. Did they leave? Surely not as that would put the citizens in danger. I hiss though as that probably never occurred to Atem. He was too stuck up to really care about us. But even outside the walls I don't hear the sounds of screaming which usually would mean Bakura was near. The village is asleep and hasn't been disturbed so they must all still be here somewhere.

I move my free hand to the left wall, tracing the hieroglyphics carved in the brick. It is cold and completely undisturbed which doesn't help with my worries. Bakura...where are you? My only theory is he is in the throne room which isn't far so I will have to try there first. There wouldn't be anywhere else the Pharaoh would go except his chambers but I know he had late business tonight. It was the only opportunity Bakura could take. I bite my lip and look down at the golden floor. It shines mockingly at me, showing me how there is no evidence of footsteps or scratches on the tiles. It is flawless except for the blood that now stains it from my sword. I frustratingly storm down the hallway, purposefully dragging my blade against the floor to mark it with crimson. It doesn't occur to me that this track can lead the guards this way but I am more concerned with finding my lover.

My dark shadow drips behind me, looming ominously across the tiles, staining my being with the blood of others. I am a murderer but I would kill thousands to be with Bakura. I would commit sins, kill myself if that meant I could have him. I love him. My eyes glow darkly and cautiously as I round the next corner, catching a glimpse of my reflection as I do so. My hair is in disarray, tangled and messy from the fighting earlier. My cheeks are flushed but I feel cold, my body tired. My eyes are hooded by black bags, darkening my eyes further. Still, I hope I am the only one looking so dead as this. My appearance is disgusting, exhausted and weary but I am hardly going to stop now. I am the only one who can help Bakura, to save him. Although he doesn't admit it, I can see it in his eyes, his gaze so full of emotion he never shares in words.

I decide I have had enough of looking at my horrid reflection and instead focus on the task. I curse at getting distracted and force myself to stay focused as I turn to see the huge door of the throne room to my right. Its gigantic, golden frame is once again untouched though I notice the door is ajar. So, someone was definitely in there as the door is usually tightly shut or even locked. It doesn't seem forced open so Bakura must have gotten here just as the Pharaoh sat on his throne again. However, the place is silent. It is just as quiet as the corridor, completely eerie and foreboding. I am brave enough though and I know I can't delay looking inside. I can't hear Bakura and the fact of that makes my heart swell with worry. I feel nauseous as I creep closer to the door, pressing myself against it. It may also be a trap so I have to be careful and sneak in there. I use the few tricks Bakura taught me and silently slide off my shoes. If I make a mistake and slip or drag my foot across the tile it will make a noise and clear notify someone where I am. I place my shoes beside the wall and know that I can run faster without them. It gives me enough reassurance to slip closer and gently push the door another inch open. It luckily makes no sound as I slide my body through the tiny gap. I would rather not let anyone know I was in here.

Once I am through I quickly take a look around the room. The place is dark, the pillars towering above me and framing the small stage where the throne sits. I blink when I see it is empty, the Pharaoh not sitting proudly upon it. That definitely means the battle had started. There is more evidence to prove it as near the centre of the large room the pillars are cracked and the tiled floor is destroyed. Some of the roof has collapsed as well, letting the moonlight's rays shine through and illuminate the floor. The setting is exactly as I had expected but there is still no sign of Bakura. I frown and carefully tread forwards into the room, taking a closer look through the darkness. The moon offers a little light in and allows me to spot a figure leaning against one of the left walls. I turn to examine it but keep far enough away in case it springs to life and grabs me. The khopesh fits perfectly at my side and I am sure I will have to use it again. The figure is still, far too still and it is clear it is dead. I move slightly closer, a bit more safe now that I know this figure isn't going to attack. I shift so I get a better angle and the light lets me see who it is. The silhouette is not Bakura as it is not big enough. This one is scrawny and thin.

As the moon hits the head of the figure my jaw drops. Although I shouldn't be surprised by what I see I can't help but stare wide eyed at the Pharaoh. His head hangs down, completely the opposite to how a king should look. He is pale, brown skin faded and bloody. His chest is crimson, darkening his royal robes and the expensive gold gripping to his flesh. Everything is stained, all of it red and there is no way he could have survived. Even if he had been awake after the stabbing in his chest he would have bled out before finding help. There is no one here, no one protected him. Did they just desert him or were they ordered to do so? Either way, he is dead now. It is hard to believe someone like this would be dead so easily though that is exactly why Bakura is superior. I blink. Where is he? I quickly glance around more thoroughly but don't see him anywhere. Maybe he managed to escape again once he had killed Atem. But I am sure he would have come to get me. Worry spreads across my face as I look back to the corpse in front of me. Though I should be thrilled with this sight I feel nothing but panic at not knowing where Bakura has gotten to. I examine Atem again to see if there are any clues like a piece of gold Bakura wore or a strand of his hair but nothing catches my eye immediately. After a few frustrating moments I quickly fall to my knees and drop my sword, my movements now more frantic. Come on. There has to be something. I know him too well now that there must be something I'll recognise. I grab Atem's robe, searching through the pockets though I know there will be nothing there. Anything is better than nothing. I shake the corpse, seeing if anything rolls or drops off of Atem but only blood drips from the body.

With a furious growl I throw the boy away from me, watching in grim satisfaction and the neck snaps. All he has on him is the pyramid item around his neck. I should take it but what for? Bakura would have a use for it but without him here I am too worried to concern myself with a piece of gold. I grab my hair, pulling at the strands. Where else would he go? There is nothing else in this Palace that he would want except for the revenge. Now he has it he is supposed to be free. Perhaps he did leave and just forgot to collect me, or he was in too much of a hurry. Those thoughts don't reassure me though. In fact they only piss me off. I growl with a curse, slamming my fist down on the tiles. My knuckles crack at the force but I don't feel pain. I glance down though to check if I broke anything but instead I manage to spot a dagger lying beside the corpse. By the shape of Atem's fingers it looks as if the dagger had been held in his hand and as I threw him it dislodged the weapon. I grab at it eagerly, cradling the knife to my chest lovingly. But it only causes panic in me again. This is Bakura's blade.
He had it with him always as a weapon and protection. He even aimed it at me once and by the love he had for it he would never leave it behind. Especially after killing a king. Bakura would gloat and show it off telling thieves that is the knife he killed the Pharaoh with. It is stained in blood, flesh attached to it, but why would Atem be holding it? With a horrific idea planted in my head I shoot upright and spin to face the room again. I can't believe it. It can't be true. I step forwards and ignore what I had been trying to do. I forget to be careful and grasp the knife tightly as I shout his name, "Bakura?"

I scan the area but still don't see him, neither do I get a reply. I swallow and my eyes widen with panic. He isn't answering. He has to be here as he wouldn't leave his knife or me behind. Bakura. I step around some of the rubble. Maybe he is trapped. My eyes are everywhere, picking up every stone and particle of dust. There is still no sound. No. I can't believe it. As I pass by one of the pillars I glance at the floor to stop myself treading on any sharp rock. This was a disadvantage to taking shoes off. On the tiles a trail of smeared blood marks the floor. There is no other sign of blood and that amount is extremely dangerous. I suddenly fear the worst and my motions turn frantic again. I turn over pieces of rubble, searching for my lover amongst it in case he is trapped beneath the stone. I don't see him and decide my next step is following the blood. I grit my teeth to keep myself from screaming as I twist to turn behind one of the other pillars, "Baku...ra?"

I fade off saying his name when I see the other figure leaning against the opposite wall. No. No, no, no. This can't be happening. It can't! The figure has white hair, short and tangled as it frames the pale brown face. His head is hung, in a similar position to the corpse nearby. He is too still, his lavender eyes closed and face pained. I step back in horror, my eyes wide and head shaking. I can't. That can't be Bakura. No, no. My moonlight. It can't...

I run, my eyes so wide so I can capture every sight of him. He isn't moving, his form still and broken. No, "No, no, no. Bakura! Bakura, stay with me!" I sink down beside him, bringing my hands to cup his cheeks and lift his head so I can fully see his face. At my voice Bakura manages to shift, his chest coming to life again and panting in pain. I jump back in shock at the sudden movement but am relieved he is able to move and is still alive.

"I didn't think you'd come" Bakura's voice is hoarse and raspy, completely different to his usual tone. He must be in so much agony as he hasn't got the strength to raise the volume of his voice. It is but a whisper though the silence of the large room allows me to catch his words. His head raises a little more until I can see his eyes. They are open now but the horror of seeing how dull they are has my anger flaring. How could this happen? I was sure Bakura could do it but even so I would have gotten here in time to prevent him from doing anything stupid. Evidently I was far too late. Why did he have to do this now? He could have picked any night. True, this night was perfect because of Atem staying in his throne room at this time, but any other night he could have slaughtered the boy in his sleep. But, of course, Bakura wanted a stage, a full battle against his enemy that gave Atem a chance if winning. I glance at the corpse lying discarded on the floor. He didn't win but at this point Bakura was losing as well. Why did he have to be so damn stubborn?! I hiss and turn back to my moonlight, digging my nails into his shoulders as I shake him. It isn't rough but enough to clearly show my anger. He did all this without consulting me and then didn't even bother to try and find me. What, so he was just planning to die alone? Fuck that.

"You bastard! Why didn't you come to me? Dammit Bakura, why are you so stubborn that you won't insist for my help?" I scream at him, not caring that I am being too loud. He deserves to be shouted at, to be scolded and punched until it registered that he needed me. Not once did he ever want my help but he needed me to do this. Without my information he would have been unable to get into the Palace or even know that tonight Atem was having extended business. It then occurs to me that all of that is completely true. If it weren't for me Bakura would never have come tonight. If it weren't for me Bakura wouldn't be lying here. My eyes widen at the realisation that actually it was all my fault. I sent Bakura hurdling into the darkness and towards Anubis. His soul was damned the very moment he met me. A sudden chuckling sound stops my thoughts and shocks me. My head snaps up to see Bakura, an arrogant smirk lifting his lips. He chuckles darkly at me, a spatter of blood dribbling down his chin. That expression only makes me want to punch him. How dare he chuckle at me now when he is in this situation? I growl, "Why are you grinning, asshole?! Stop it"

"No. You know why I didn't get you involved" Bakura grins, his lips stained a horrific shade of crimson. His voice is still pained and contrasting with his stupid smirk. It is almost smug. Is he fucking happy he is hurt? I hiss and shake him again. He can't look at me like that.

"No, I don't. Enlighten me" I almost scream in frustration. How can he act like this? Smug and seemingly arrogant with how I am acting. Was this his plan all along? Just to get harmed and watch my reaction? I am more angry now than I ever thought I would be. He is mocking me, trying to make me terrified and furious. He is probably wanting to push me over the edge so I can punch him. Bakura stares at me with his dull gaze and I can only watch him, completely helpless. My eyes are narrowed now in a cold glare, the look enough to kill. However, Bakura isn't affected by it and merely leans slightly closer. His breath smells of copper, his blood dripping down his skin as his lips move. Every motion only causes him more pain but he hardly shows it on his face. His eyes screw painfully tight, his scar wrinkling on his right cheek.

"You would have only gotten killed. I can't look out for you during a battle like this and besides, you want to lay low" I hiss at every word. It was true that I would have been revealed of my treachery and sentenced to die if I were caught but surely Bakura knew that
everything I did was because I wanted to be beside him. I love him. I grit my teeth in fury.

"So, I'm a burden? I would have just prevented you from fulfilling your destiny?" The anger in me floods my emotions. Though deep down I know that is false. Bakura never thought of me as a burden but even so he always refused me. My head hangs, my shoulders slumping in defeat. Why am I even arguing with him? He is the one in danger and I am wasting time when I could be tending to his wounds. I saw the blood on the floor and know it is from him. I saw his bloody dagger in the fingers of that corpse and I can be saving Bakura. Yet, a part of me knows that I can't move. I can't let him go now. Warm, weak fingers suddenly grab at my chin. I blink, my eyes wide at that touch as somehow I never thought Bakura had the strength in him to lift a hand. Yet, his palm drifts up my jaw and to my cheek, lifting my head again so he can see me. His hand is rough, his fingers smearing his blood across my face but I don't care. I can be soaked in it and still not care as it is Bakura.

"Idiot. I would have done it if you were here or not. I couldn't live if I'd lost you" Bakura's voice is slightly softer now and it is frightening that he is showing me this side of him when he is helpless and injured. He is vulnerable and especially at this point he has wiped the smirk from his face and left me with a neutral expression. I can see his agony now, his lips turning up in a grimace which ruins his features. He is being serious and the very thought he would die for me makes my chest swell. My anger dissipates at those simple words as now I understand. He had no intention of contacting me or visiting me after the fight as it would only put me in danger. I could have crept out and ran away with him the next day as the guards cleaned up the chaos. Bakura had been protecting me the entire time and his bitterness towards me was not that he didn't care. My throat feels swollen as my emotions now drastically change to the panic and sadness I had felt at first seeing Bakura lying amongst the rubble. How could I have been so naive? Only now Bakura is dying and that was truly my fault. He had protected me and I had paid him back by sending him to his death in this damned place. My fingers grasp his shoulders but I don't shake him, instead shifting between his legs to be as close as I can to him.

"Bakura..." I almost cry his name, my throat closing and a lump there from the amount of melancholy I feel in this moment. This is the only chance we will get together but I can't believe it. I have to do something as I won't watch him fade away. As I hold him close I suddenly feel his head fall forward as if he has fallen unconscious. My panic lifts immediately and I grasp his cheeks, pulling his head up again. He is too weak, his body drifting as I support him. His tangled hair falls over his eyes but to my relief he manages to blink, his lids fluttering. At least he hasn't lost consciousness. That is the last thing we need as I won't know if he will wake back up again. I stroke under his eyes, my thumb ghosting over his scar desperately, "Bakura, come on. Stay with me" I continue stroking urgently on his cheeks, trying to bring him back and focus. After several long minutes, Bakura's eyes open fully again and stare at me. His pupils are dilated, the violet irises almost swallowing them but I let out a relieved breath. His lips lift in a smirk again but I can clearly see how weak it has gotten.

"I'll be fine..." Bakura states though it is a complete lie. His voice is even quieter and this time it is hard for me to pick up. I growl, shaking my head stubbornly as I pull his head to my chest. I stroke my fingers through his hair, locking them in the strands as I usually do. How his hair reminds me of the moonlight, the rays reflecting beautifully off it. I press my face in it, keeping it in the soft locks and smelling the gorgeous desert air in it. Only now it is not strong enough to block the stench of coppery blood. It makes me want to heave but I can't at the moment.

"No, you won't be fucking fine" I growl into his white hair before shifting away. I keep my hands in his hair, drifting them down each side of his face, past his ears and down his jaw so I can gently push his head from me. I am wasting too much time and need to at least heal his wound. I haven't even checked how bad it is, though I know from his reactions it is fatal. I don't want to look, not at that blood and teared flesh but it is vital for me to take care of it. I push Bakura back against the wall so he is comfortable and at an angle where I will be able to examine him better. I am not a doctor so no nothing of healing wounds but as I am a scribe I can read any scriptures with information on it. Only, this will take time to do. I bite my lip and spy Bakura gripping at his stomach. Already I can see how much blood is up his chest and staining his waist cloth. Just that amount is enough to warn me what Bakura is hiding under his hand. I don't want to look. I don't want to see. I lean closer and reach for his hand, carefully gripping his fingers and prying them off one by one. Each one is sticking to his skin due to the blood and as I rip them away the squelching sound follows. It makes me heave before I can stop myself. I dry retch, my body convulsing and my stomach complaining but nothing escapes me but bile. To my surprise Bakura doesn't complain about it but I can still hear him breathing so I know he is aware with what I am doing. Come on, Namu! Do it.

I try convincing myself that nothing will be under his hand but I am lying. I decide the best thing to do is just rip it away quickly and look at it from a glance. I am wasting time. I hiss and grip Bakura's hand and pull, wrenching it away and placing it by his side where he won't aggravate the wound. I stare down and immediately sob. Atem didn't merely stab straight into the skin. With him sitting on the floor he hadn't the strength to aim for an internal organ and hope it pierced. Instead Atem had stabbed Bakura to the right of his stomach, several centimetres from his belly button. The stab was weak and would
have been a mere scratch and easy to heal so Atem had pulled out and stabbed again near that spot four more times. To make sure he hit an organ and artery, the bastard had left the blade in and probably fallen back down. As he fell it tugged the dagger through Bakura's flesh until it pulled out of his side. That gash is deep and open wide, revealing some of the intestine which has been brutally shredded. I cover my mouth with my palm to stop being sick and preventing more sobs from escaping. No. Not, this can't be true. But this was the only explanation I can think of how it happened. Bakura must have been left like this for a long while, unable to cover it or stop the bleeding. He was left to bleed out on his own. I shake my head, tears threatening in my eyes as I stare at the gash. It continues to bleed, spurting blood to pool on the floor. Bakura had crawled over here on his stomach which made the cut wider. Why didn't I run faster? I might have gotten here in time otherwise. Still, there has to be something I can do to fix it.

I lean back down to it and bring my hands to his stomach. I don't touch the wound but try ripping part of my robe to cover it. If I had to strip in order to stop the bleeding then I would stay naked. The material tugs but is too harsh to rip and I curse inwardly at my lack of strength. "I'll heal the wound. It just needs sewing and cleaning and I'll-"

"Namu, leave it" Bakura interrupts me and he manages to grab my hands, preventing me from tearing my robe and mending him. My head snaps up at his voice and touch but I can't stop. I have to help him. I have to save him. I shake my head and pull out of his grip, panic settling in again as my voice rises to almost hysteria. My fingers tremble as I work, hating how I can't even rip this fabric. Why did the Palace make such fabulous clothing?

"No! I can't let you die! I can't lose you" I hiss, my fingers catching on the edge of the rough robe and slicing my skin but still it won't tear. It isn't fair. I have to stop the bleeding. It is my only chance. My tears decide this is the perfect opportunity, and wash down my cheeks. I don't hide my pain, letting my tears flow as they drip and mix with the blood on Bakura's chest. It is too much. I can't just sit here and accept I will lose him. It isn't over. We still have so much left to do. I am stopped again though as Bakura's hands find their way up to my cheeks. He smears his blood over my skin, fingerprints left under my eyes as he attempts to wipe away my tears. I drop my hands and instead grab at him, clinging to him with all I have. I try and move my body so as not to cause him pain on his wound but my hysteria rises and I freely sob. I wail for him, my tears soaking his shoulder. I am like a child, pained and alone. "Bakura! Don't leave me!"

"I have never seen you cry before..." I sniff, managing to lift my head slightly so I can see Bakura. His voice is so quiet, raspy and it is hard to catch everything. I try and wipe away as many tears as I can but it is difficult since they won't stop.

"What?" I sob, but manage to control myself, knowing if I keep acting like this I will just end up hurting Bakura. So I shift to sit in front of him, my hand landing on his cheek as I press our foreheads together. It is a soft touch and not one we have done for a while but it calms me enough. My breathing are still gasps of air, gulping it down desperately as I sniff again. I can't lose him. I refuse to do so. There has to be a way. Any way I can preserve him, keep him with me.

"You've never cried for me before" I blink, my eyelashes soaking wet and my vision blurred. It was true I had never cried in front of him before. I had no reason to, he made me happy. Only now it was being taken away and I will lose everything. I swallow thickly, spotting how his chest isn't moving as much now. He is getting weaker and it only makes more tears well up.

"I don't want to lose you. I love you too much to see you leave" I drop my gaze but as soon as I look away Bakura grabs my chin again. He tilts my head back up and I am met with his dull eyes. I am shocked to see them looking more alive. They stare at me, raw emotions flooding from the depths so I can see. Everything he had hidden rises to the surface and I see every feeling in his eyes.

"You love me?" I blink again in surprise. He didn't know? Sure, I had never told him before this but he surely knew. My emotions and actions showed it.

"Of course I do, fool" I want to laugh at his idiocy but I can't find this funny. It is too tragic to laugh off and I can't even find it in myself to smirk. Any other time I would have shoved him and mocked him but I want to be close to him, hold him for every second we have left. Bakura seems lost, not knowing what to do with my confession though I know he can't run from this. I don't expect anything back as he is not one to share his emotions, even though I gather he enjoys my company. I stay still and watch him, his eyes looking down and almost contemplating what his next move will be. It takes him a few minutes before he takes action and though the kiss shouldn't have surprised me I can't help but widen my eyes. We had kissed many times but now it feels much more meaningful. His mouth presses to mine violently and it shocks me he still has enough energy to pull me closer. My tears stop and I sit frozen for only a second before I quickly react. With this response I am not going to waste this moment, not when I don't know when it will all end. I kiss back fiercely, my movements desperate as I open my mouth. I instantly feel Bakura shift, his wet tongue darting to touch mine, licking urgently. This kiss is much like our first, soft yet desperate like we would be separated for eternity. Of course, in this situation we will be. With that thought in my head I bring my arms around his neck, tugging him closer as I send him all of my love, all of my emotions I ever felt for him. I need him to know exactly what I feel as I will never have this opportunity again. I lap at his tongue, feeling our saliva mix with the tears and blood. I don't let him go, needing him so much more than I have ever needed him.

As his tongue touches mine it is suddenly so sweet and gentle. Not once has he kissed me like this, it is completely opposite to how he usually acts. Mostly it has always been lust driving him but now I can feel his gentleness, his love for me spreading though my body. My brows furrow and for some reason I find myself crying again, tears rolling down my cheeks as I feel his emotions, his sudden love. He has never known the words to tell me so instead uses these actions to show me. I grip onto him, kissing him over and over, smothering him with my mouth until my lungs burn. My heart pumps, filling my veins with adrenaline and desperation and there is no way I can live without him. My only chance is to join him, to follow him into the field and to Anubis. We will die together. I pull back reluctantly, my breathing ragged and pants. Bakura is the same, gasping for air as he fills his broken organs. I can't lose him. I press my lips to his throat, kissing his skin and causing my mouth to fill with his blood. Not much long after I feel his fingers at the back of my neck.

"Namu, hand me the Millennium ring" my violet eyes blink in annoyance at being disturbed but I know I have to do anything to make Bakura comfortable now. I lean back and nod, glancing around us. He must have managed to retrieve the ring during the battle then. I had been too preoccupied to notice and because of that it takes me a while to figure out where the gold is. It lies under some rubble, discarded on the tiled floor but seemingly unharmed. Though I don't understand why Bakura would want it now but he must want to hold it to be close to the gold. I reach and grasp it, my bloody fingers marking the metal. The rock keeping the gold hidden doesn't stop me and I wiggle it out without much effort. The spikes jingle gently, echoing around the room in the quiet space.

"What do you want it for?" I frown, turning back to spot Bakura. The gold feels heavy in my hand, a feeling of dread in my stomach but he wants it and it may bring him peace now. It is the least I can do after sending him here, hurtling into his own blade. Bakura says nothing as I crawl back over to him, his hair swaying limply. This time, my eyes can't avoid his wound and I stare straight at it. How can this happen? Bakura is strong enough to evade a knife, but he must have been so distracted with his victory that he didn't see the dagger. I growl to myself, my eyes blurry. However, I have had my cry now and I must at least hide it until Bakura is gone. I hiss furiously at my own thoughts. No. I still can't accept that, not that he will leave me.

"You know the curses for burials, right?" Bakura speaks up and drags me from my thoughts again. I manage to focus and glance up at his dull eyes. What has this got to do with anything? Curses were common in Heka and voodoo from those who were banished or burdened. They had committed sins and were sent away. I have no interest in it but had come across some scrolls during my teachings. It was definitely frightening, hexing people to the Gods and especially anything to do with death. However, I had learnt a few rituals to help the Pharaohs into the afterlife, though I hadn't planned on using them. I would hardly help the deceased King live happily in the next life. Fuck that. I raise an eyebrow and decide to lie, knowing I don't want to use it. There is no way I using spells on the Pharaoh.

"No" Although the lie comes out naturally, my voice betrays me and rises to clearly show my lie. Bakura notices and scowls, his hand suddenly launching to grab my arm. His grip is surprisingly tight but due to his energy it doesn't take long for his fingers to release me.

"You're lying"

"So? What does this have anything to do with this situation? You're dying, Bakura" my tone doesn't come out as a growl like I intended, instead it is more of a whine, a beg. Bakura merely rolls his eyes, his irises circling in his sockets before settling back on me again. It is a usual reaction from him but the weakness of him only makes it frightening.

"And so have no time left to argue. I want you to curse me" Despite his words he says them with such ease that it is like he had this planned. My eyes instantly widen at his request and I back away. The ring drops into his lap as I shuffle from between his legs. What is he actually wanting me to do? What curse? There are so many that I can hardly choose which one to place on him, as if I ever wanted to. I can't do that to him. He is already suffering enough and I can't stop his pain. Now he wants me to place a curse on him? No way am I doing that. I growl.

"What the hell? No. I am never doing that to you"

"This isn't a choice, Namu. Place a binding spell on me. Curse me" I hiss again. Now he isn't giving me a choice? Damn him. I can't just curse him to damnation when is dying anyway. The only curse I can really put on him to make this worse is eternal suffering in the afterlife. Why would he even want that? So this was what the ring was for? It possesses impossible power and could easily be used for such purposes if the right words were uttered.

"No! Bakura, why? You're already suffering. I can't do it" i shake my head, almost wailing again now at the idea of Bakura being kept in darkness, harmed by other spirits and the wrath of the Gods. I cannot damn him to another life of that. However, Bakura moves his hand again, grabbing at my fingers and bringing them up to his bleeding lips. His tongue gently licks at my digits, placing careful kisses on my knuckles. I blink, letting him do it as he attempts to calm me, but of course it doesn't work. I watch as his face leans on the back of my hand, his forehead brushing my skin. Tears threaten again and I curse myself for feeling so pathetic. But how could I not? I am terrified. "Don't make me"

"This is my only chance to see you again..." His words are but a whisper but this time I manage to catch them. I blink, my lashes damp as I furrow my brows.

"What do you mean?" Strangely I find hope in his words. Though everything I have tried and in this situation there is nothing we can do I manage to stare with hope. Cursing him so he can see me again? I don't recall a spell like that as surely all curses were evil. There had to be a catch in this, if letting him come back to be dragged back into darkness. Something wasn't right with this bargain. Bakura doesn't move, his forehead still firmly placed on my hand.

"Curse me and bind me to the Ring. My soul will become part of it. Only when I find a suitable host will I find you in the next life" I blink. Again, his words come out smoothly like they are rehearsed. He is weakening though and I am sure he passing his limit. I shift closer and move my hand across his cheek and into his hair. He looks so different to how I know him, so weak and vulnerable. This isn't the Bakura I know. I tangle my fingers in his strands, leaning closer expectantly. So his soul would be trapped in the ring? He would be alone and in the dark until he will find me? I know he is referring to my reincarnation once I have died but that could mean hundreds to thousands of years. He would suffer for that long just to find my next self? But it would kill him. I would certainly not remember him or this life so there would be no purpose to him finding me. I shake my head.

"There is no point. I won't remember. I won't let you suffer like that"

"I will make you remember. I swear you won't forget" I stare with wide eyes at Bakura's insistence. Usually he would back down when he knew a plan wouldn't work. I have never seen him like this since he told me how much he wanted vengeance. I can't do it though. As much as I want to save him, it isn't saving cursing him to a life of darkness. At least in death he will be calm and I will join him soon after.

"I can't do it, my moonlight" I have called him this many times but never in this context. The situation now is much more threatening and I say it with as much love as I can. His fingers reach for my chest, gripping weakly at the robe to pull me closer.

"Save me" I stare in shock. He has never said that to me. Throughout the dangerous scrapes he has been in and needed me he never wanted my help. Only now he really wants this. He wants to be trapped if it keeps him alive. I close my eyes tightly, willing my tears forth.

"Bakura...why didn't you mention this before?"

"I didn't know you loved me. But if I have a chance to see you in another life I will take anything to do it" That statement only makes me cry harder. He was just going to leave me to love someone else in the next life and once again protect me from him. Only now it will cause him more pain seeing a shell of myself but not remember who he is. That must be the catch. He will see me but not be able to approach me or risk telling me anything. He will suffer that pain for eternity, living inside someone's body. I mustn't do it as I can't let him face that pain. However, I can't let him die. I am trapped between what I want and what he wants. He wants to see me and yet I know he won't be able to force me to do anything or remember. All he can do is watch this other version of me. But somehow I know he has a plan, he knows something I don't. His life is fading and I have a split decision in what to do. I have no time and my selfishness wants him to make me remember, wants him to love the other me. I grit my teeth and grab the ring from his thighs. I remember a curse I had read which conveniently had a binding spell attached. I must protect him. I carefully sit down against the wall beside him and gently pry him off the brick and lie him down. It seems Bakura knows what I am doing and helps me in laying him down, placing his head in my lap. The ritual is simple but with the power of the item it should be easy to transfer his soul. I bite my lip as he settles himself comfortably, though he gives out a small cry of pain as his stomach pulls.

"Stay with me" Bakura manages a stiff nod and rests his head on my thighs as I carefully lift the ring around his neck and position it on his chest. The spikes lie haphazardly on his skin but Bakura seems comfortable now though the gold must be freezing cold. He doesn't flinch though and must have planned this as a last resort. Since he can't read I doubt he knows what the ritual requires and only trusted that I knew it. Lucky for him everything we need is here and I don't need any candles or scents. My expression must still be reluctant and frightened as Bakura lifts his hand to caress my cheek. I glance down at him with melancholic eyes but he seems confident and prepared regardless of his knowledge of this spell.

"I will find you" I don't answer, knowing if I open my mouth I will just end up wailing again. So, instead I just start. I want to drag it out as long as I can but if I do Bakura might slip away before I finish. I can't waste any more time and hope that whatever happens during the ritual is supposed to happen. Since the starting of it requires the sacrificial blood of the subject, I dip my finger into Bakura's still bleeding flesh. I make sure to pick the edge which is at his side as it isn't touching his insides. Bakura still hisses though so I do it quickly, sticking two fingers and hooking them to get as much blood as I can. I need to make sure it is wet and sticky but since the blood is still fresh I know it is perfect for the ritual. I wait until Bakura is settled again, his breathing pants and his body falling limp. His eyes flutter which is definitely a bad sign but I can still see he is conscious. This is my only chance then. I trace the ring's shape on Bakura's chest, the blood sliding thickly around the spikes as I mark the item. Bakura's skin is so pale, a very light shade of caramel and even lighter than mine. It looks ghostly and broken but feels as soft as usual. At my gentle touches, Bakura relaxes and I am grateful this part of the spell is soothing him again.

Bakura stays quiet and I am sure by this point he can't speak. The exhaustion of me digging my fingers in his wound has gotten to him and I am glad he stays quiet as to not distract me and ruin the spell. The last thing I want is to cause him pain. The blood dries relatively quickly after I smear it on his skin in a circular motion. The shape of the ring stays on his skin and if the item were moved the silhouette would remain. But I growl inwardly when I haven't got enough blood to mark the next step of the spell. I don't want to touch it again but it is my only choice. I close my eyes and apologise quickly before digging my fingers a little deeper into the gash. This time Bakura convulses, fighting me and tries to claw at my invading digits but I slap his hands away. He screams, writhing in absolute agony as I feel inside his flesh. My fingers brush a jelly like substance and a soft organ and I wrench my hand back. The squelching of the blood follows and I lean away to heave. My stomach hiccups and I jerk, sicking up the small amount of food I had eaten earlier. I can't do this. The thick blood coats my fingers, dribbling down my wrist and onto the centre of the ring, Horus' eye staring accusingly up at me.

I continue retching, bile and disgusting chunks of grape hit the floor and mix with the blood which just makes me worse. However a palm touches my cheek again and my head snaps to Bakura. His fingers shake, his breathing terrible and my hesitance is just taking up time. Bakura hasn't got the strength left in him anymore and I need to preserve it before he disappears. I wipe saliva from my chin with the back of my hand and nod, getting his silent instructions. His face is serious but his eyes are insisting I continue which I know I must do. I swallow the majority of anything that threatens to resurface and lean forward again. Bakura's hand stays on my cheek, almost in silent encouragement as I reach for the ring and reposition it back on his chest from when he started fighting me. My index finger drips with blood and stays perfectly as I draw an X pattern as if crossing the ring out. I dot the centre of the eye several times before withdrawing and furiously wipe the blood off my fingers. It doesn't come off completely but enough that I don't feel so disgusting.

"Death shall come on swift wings to him that toucheth this ring. Only the blood of this family may act as vessel for this soul. I curse those to the wrath of Set and Anubis" I repeat those words four more times, chanting them as I look down at Bakura. He stares right back, his eyes gleaming now with emotions that are too powerful. I love him so much. I reach and grip the ring and as I do so I feel impossible power running through my veins. My eyes widen at the strength of it, its power that of the Gods. It builds and increases until the gold is too hot for me to touch, burning my flesh. I jerk away from it but Bakura doesn't seem effected by the heat. He stays still, his hand still on my cheek. "Ana bahebak"

With those sudden words from my lips, Bakura's fingers curl, his sharp nails digging deep into my cheek. I feel the pain immediately and cry out in shock, my skin bleeding as Bakura scratches my face. I grip my cheek to stop the bleeding and curse when Bakura starts to thrash, his eyes rolling back. He screams and the sound freezes me in place. It is full of agony, his body convulsing in my lap though he doesn't seem aware with what he is doing. It almost looks like he is being possessed, his eyes deep in his sockets and actions violent. This surely isn't supposed to happen. Isn't it a gentle, carful way of binding the soul. I stare in horror at the sight of him, my heart bleeding at seeing him in this way. This isn't right. It shouldn't be so horrific. This isn't how I wanted him to go. He screams again, his fingers acting as claws and trying to scratch. I dodge them and decide I have to stop this. He can go to the afterlife as it is much peaceful than this. I go to grab the ring and rip it away but to my dismay I can only witness as the sharp spikes dig deep into Bakura's chest. The five
dots I had to draw were markers and now I understand why. The mould into his flesh, piercing around his heart like demonic talons. No. This isn't what I wanted. I cry and leap for Bakura, grabbing him and pulling him to my chest.

"Bakura! No, no, no. Stop! Why is it doing this?! Bakura, come back to me!" I rant, using my arms to wind around Bakura's torso and bring him to my chest in some act of soothing. He doesn't stop screaming though, his hands grabbing at my robe and trying to tear to reach my skin. What the hell is happening? Why is he acting like this? He is clearly in pain but he hasn't the energy to do any of this. The ring must be affecting him, draining his life even more and quickening the process of death. I can't stop it, as much as I try and get to the ring. It is too deep in his chest and if I pulled it would cause more pain and bleeding. The wound opens more, revealing his intestine as it drips into my lap. I cry, tears drowning me at how this had to happen. I am the cause for it all and now Bakura is being dragged away and I don't even know if this is part if the spell. It can't be though as surely a curse won't hurt him this much. I wail, joining his screams as I try and calm him down but the pain must be excruciating for him but his mind is gone. He is mad, his body the only thing left of him. Why? Why did I do this? I shouldn't have got involved as I wouldn't feel the grief and hurt of having my lover taken away, "Bakura!"

Before I can react any further Bakura's head snaps back. I gasp in shock at the movement before he falls heavy in my grip. He falls slack, his entire form limp. I freeze and stare down at Bakura, his eyes wide and staring past me. They are blank, the light gone from them and there is no doubt he is dead. I blink in disbelief at the change in him but the realisation I am now holding a corpse dawns on me. I scream, my body still in shock as I watch Bakura. He is of course unmoving, his eyes dark and hooded as well as skin being deathly pale. He is too heavy for my thin arms but I keep him held there, unable to let him go. I scream again, my tears flowing onto his face. No! No! I can't lose him. Not yet. Bakura. I sob, the noises coming from so loud and echoing around the room to show my pain. I can't have lost him. It is too quick. It is too sudden and I never got to properly speak to him. He can't have gone, but his soul may have been saved. He makes no sign of life and my only chance at bringing him back is that ring. I lean him back to see his chest, the spikes still sticking deep in his skin. It
doesn't do anything so how am I supposed to know if it has worked? My panic intensifies when there is nothing, no sound or movement, "D-did it work? Bakura, answer me! Please!" I beg like I'm mad. I talk to the gold in desperation, begging to give me any sign that Bakura's soul is still here, but there is nothing. Am I supposed to do something then? Do I cast another spell, or sacrifice myself to see him? I need him now. Anything is better than just staying here without him.

I cry, bringing Bakura's head back over to me and press my lips against his cold mouth. I kiss him several times, repeating my kisses and trying to pry his soul out of the ring. He should respond to me doing this, respond to my voice or my love. His lips remain still though, only shifting as I lick at his tongue. As much as I kiss him like this it doesn't solve anything and only leaves me alone and broken. This can't be the end. He has to at least have made it into the ring after all that pain and suffering we went through. He needs to answer me but everything I try it gets the same result. Bakura just sits here in my arms, motionless and staring into space. He is empty, a shell with no soul yet there is no evidence he made it into the gold. My eyes shut and I press my face in his shoulder, wetting his skin with my tears. He has left me here and I don't know where he is or if he can even see me now. This is all my fault.

I hardly notice the sound of footsteps entering the room. It is only when I hear the sound of a sword being drawn that I lift my head. The noise is close and it is definitely a metal blade being unsheathed. In my desperation I know I need to protect Bakura, even if it is just his body, his soul may be in the ring and if that is the case I need to keep it safe. I pull Bakura's head into my chest, cradling his limp body against me as if my body is a shield. I don't care if I am hurt now. I have to join Bakura and I will follow him into death. That was what I had planned from the start. I glance up, my head snapping to look at where the guards are. A huge group of them have entered the room, probably after searching fruitlessly for Bakura. Now they must have realised Atem is dead as well and have come to take his rotting corpse away. I hope his soul is cursed, his body going to dry up and fall to sand. A few of the men spot me in the rubble and turn with their swords blazing but from this distance I can easily evade them. I can possibly drag Bakura out and into the desert with me but I obviously can't go out the door. I will have to see if there are other alternatives. My eyes glow a fierce violet, full of rage and fire as I turn my head to look through the rubble. However, instead of rock I am met with legs. My eyes widen in surprise and I move my gaze up to spot a guard right beside me. That must have been the source of the blade as in his hand is a long sword. From my calculations I was too distracted to notice him and he must have crept around the rubble whilst I looked the other way. My screams must have given away my position and now I was going to pay for that. I thought I was prepared enough but I can't help gasp in horror as the sword swings. It connects with my throat and I barely have time to scream as the pain in my neck rips. The sword buries deep in my flesh and continues tugging through, blood spurting across the floor as my spine snaps and the sword decapitates me.

Without realising it I was crying. Tears ran down my face at such an amount that I never realised my body was capable of containing so much. I had never cried since the day of my initiation, I had no reason to. But I had never felt such pain like that. Though in this life I had received more physical pain I wasn't used to the emotional pain I just witnessed. It was obvious 'Namu' was me or in a better description, I was 'Namu'. He had been through the death of Bakura in such gruesome detail, from wounds, sick and decapitation. But from my earlier thoughts, I knew now what Bakura had actually looked like and the image was frightening. Though he looked beautiful then, he looked so ill and helpless dying. I also realised that he never died alone and I was the one who was with him but also caused his death. It was really all my fault and I should never have met him. But, I couldn't imagine myself falling in love with any other man. I loved him. My eyes continued to shed tears as I realised I was back in the crummy cafe with my coffee still half full. It was cold at that moment but I was too caught up in memories to care. I had lost my lover and he had spent three thousand years in the darkness in order to meet me again. That information was
enough to make me cry harder. I sat still, staring in front of me with my eyes wide and round. My vision was blurred and I could barely make out anything. However I didn't need to. I must have looked ridiculous sitting and bawling my eyes out but I needed to lose control. I had been keeping it in for three thousand years and that was the time I could finally cry.

I had retrieved my memories though Namu had been reluctant and skeptical that Bakura could ever get them back for me. Still, it wasn't he who had gotten them back but rather the look a like from my past that had triggered everything. But I understood that look Bakura always gave me. It had been longing and love in his eyes, just how he had looked at me whilst he was dying. He had never been able to tell me because it would have scared me so he had bottled everything away. He had protected me from the pain of those memories again and I had never known. I wanted to smile, to laugh at how everything turned out but my
sadness at the tragedy prevented me from doing it. Instead I let out a quiet sob and uttered his name, "Bakura..."

"What?" My head snapped up at the sound of his voice. As expected, Bakura stood in front of me, placing his cup of tea on the table. They must have finally done his order so Bakura could come back and drink it. I stared up at him, taking in his appearance. After seeing him in a different body it was odd looking and seeing a pale boy instead of tanned man. Brown eyes were settled on the tea, narrowed and clearly annoyed by being kept waiting. He shifted to sit down but because my lack of an answer he turned to look at me. His eyebrow was raised quizzically but his eyes widened in shock at seeing me cry. He must not have been used to the sight after being trapped for decades so he just stood awkwardly, half his body standing, the other sitting. I got a chance to see his face properly and examined his features. He looked completely different than the striking man in my memories but his eyes were the same. Though they were violet before they had a sense of wisdom and ancient age to them than Ryou's eyes. He was beautiful, his white hair relatively the same as his past self. Obviously it was longer but framed his face perfectly. My tears dripped down my cheeks and I didn't hide it. Instead I let them run clearly for him to see before I broke down completely. I collapsed against the table, hiding my face in my hands as I sobbed for him. I guessed those tears were for his death but also our reunion. I was relieved to get my memories back and I felt more like Namu again.

I let myself sob into my palms, feeling the dampness of it and how my throat closed up in despair. I stopped though when a warm hand pressed to my shoulder. It shook slightly and the stiffness made it feel awkward and uncomfortable. I glanced through my fingers to spot Bakura leaning over me. He was stood up then and had moved from his side of the table to stand beside me. The touch was odd as I had never felt him touch me in such a calming manner in this life before. He was obviously concerned but would have hidden his emotions better. His brows were furrowed in confusion and I knew I had to show him. I had to show him my feelings and how much I loved him. I pushed against the table, my arms pushing myself up in a swift and violent motion. Bakura immediately removed his hand in a way that was almost fear. I wanted to laugh again but I was still too sad to do so. Instead I turned abruptly, the coffee almost spilling at the force of my movements. Bakura opened his mouth to probably ask me what the hell was wrong but I cut him off before he could. My body shot forward, arms encircling him. I could feel him go stiff and still in my arms but I was too happy to care for his reaction. I wanted to hold him, kiss him and touch him everywhere to claim him as mine once more. I felt so many emotions in that one moment that I could have exploded. I felt grief, sadness, happiness, relief and love, all for him and he had no idea what I was doing.

My arms trapped him in an embrace, my hands locking around his thin torso and pressing him to my chest as I had done during his death. Only this time it was rougher as I knew I wouldn't hurt him. I could hold him as tight as I desired and know he wouldn't break. I had expected him to pull away as in this body I knew his reactions but it shocked me that his hands carefully tapped my back in a half-hearted hug. He relaxed though much sooner than I thought and I couldn't help wipe my face into his shirt, dampening the fabric with my tears, "Marik...?"

I tried to stop my tears but they were more happy when I embraced him. I managed to smile, lifting my head to sniff and see his completely confused face. His beautiful brown eyes watched me with caution as he most likely wasn't used to seeing me like this. After all, we had only known each other for a small amount of time and yet after that episode I knew more about him than he did. I leaned up close to him, pressing myself as close as I could as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I noticed how much taller I was than him which contrasted to how tall he was in the past. I breathed in his scent, a sweet smell than the
horrific copper of his blood, "My moonlight"

"What did you just say?" I smiled wider at his reaction. I shouldn't have been secretive but I was too relieved he was alive and with me again. He definitely remembered my nickname for him, even after those long years apart and somehow he would catch on. I didn't want to talk
though at that moment and instead chose Bakura's alternative and used actions instead. I leant up and pulled him against me. His lips smashed against mine and I eagerly shifted closer to get a better angle. I took him by surprise so it took him a while to register what had happened. He managed to kiss me back without anymore hesitation and I opened my mouth for him. My tongue instantly brushed his and I almost melted at the heat between us. The kiss was fiery, sharing every emotion we had for each other but it meant everything to us. I wanted that moment to last for eternity, for time to just freeze so we could be held like that. I didn't care about the public place we were in or the disgusted eyes watching us as I was too grateful that the binding spell had worked. I had worried far too much but something triggered the curse and caused Bakura to revive. He was saved and I could finally be held in his arms again. I ran my tongue into his mouth, lapping at his teeth and exploring every part of him. Gods, how I missed his mouth, the rough way he kissed me and how his lips always left me breathless. I couldn't express my love for him enough, how much I adored his presence and appreciated him. However, the kiss had to end eventually and I pulled back to breathe, panting loudly with a string of saliva still connecting us.

"Gods, Marik, I missed you so fucking much" Bakura's voice was breathless, gasping for air. I didn't respond, not wanting to talk. I just wanted to kiss him, love him with every beat of my heart. So, I pulled him back into a furious, heated kiss, my passion desperate. My fingers tangled in his hair as we kissed, the coffee and tea left forgotten on the table.