Ok, so this is my first Yu-Gi-Oh story and my first story on this site! Wahoo! But, I apologize if they are too OOC for you. I tried, people! Anyway, I'll quit my ramblings now and let you read. On with the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own Anzu or Bakura or Yami. Or anything from Yu-Gi-Oh for that matter.

I Hope You Dance

The trees swayed gently in the salty breeze, their lime green leaves rustling softly in the air's otherwise silence. The sky was painted a gorgeous orange, red lacing in and out of it, with a rosy pink somewhere in the distance. Animals gratefully retired to their nests, exhausted after the day's long fight for survival, and they cuddled within the warmth of their own fur. The comforting rumble as waves hit the shore not far down the path slowly lulled the wood into its trance-like sleep.

Leaves cracked under boot as the girl trudged down the path; her blue eyes set forward, fists clenched. Auburn brown hair was feathered short, tickling the back of her neck, but she didn't seem to mind. A ruffled white skirt batted around her fair-skinned legs, the ocean's tender breath catching it, but the form-fitting pink shirt upon her torso stayed put. Her pink lips were set in a terse frown, her slender ginger brows furrowed as she fought the stinging sensation in her eyes.

She paused for a second, using her gloved hands to wipe the rousing tears from her cerulean eyes. How could that have happened to her? She'd practiced that routine for months, and she'd messed up when it really mattered. Maybe she wouldn't be going to New York or America at all for that matter. She sniffled softly just thinking about it, before shaking her head, locks of auburn hair bouncing with her. She couldn't think about that now; she came to this place to forget, not brood.

The girl forced herself to keep walking, her strong willed stride returning. She let her body take a confident appearance, hips swaying slightly, fingers scrunched into tight fists. She couldn't let anyone know of her downfall, how she had failed to get her scholarship to New York City as a dancer. She had to be strong; and strength meant she had to fight this rising heartache in her chest. She pushed it down, attempted to bury it in her deepest depths.

Gradually, a salty tang hit her face, and she winced slightly, before welcoming the sea's caress. She stood at the border between forest and beach, the tips of her boots dug into the sand and the backs crushing lush green grass. She hugged herself snugly, contently breathing in the sharp scent of salt water. Her blue eyes casted upward, staring at the awesome decoration the sunset displayed across the evening sky, she let herself drift into her silent reveries.

She stayed like that for a few minutes, sulking slightly as she rummaged through her memories of the audition. A sigh formed in her throat and woke her from her dream, so she gathered herself and stumbled down the beach's sloping sides. The girl smiled; she loved the way the sand gave way and slipped under her heavy boots.

Once she had made it halfway down, she stopped, straightened her skirt and plopped herself down on the comfortable sand. Sorrowfully, she dug her delicate fingers into her soft cushion, raising them and watching as the sand fell, like a stream, between them. Before she knew it, or could stop it, tears were cascading down her fair cheeks, and sobs escaped her heart. She threw her face into her hands, finally letting go and allowing the rivers of hurt to fall. All of her hidden sorrows flowed freely, salty reminders of what she had failed at.

"It would appear I'm not the only one who comes here for comfort."

The gruff voice cut through her crying, and she quickly tried to quiet herself. She couldn't let anyone, anyone, know about her weakness. Even if she didn't know who this person was. Soon, the only clue that she had been sobbing her sorrows away was the red tinge her eyes had taken, and, wiping her nose, she looked over her shoulder.

The man standing there had a strong build, his chest powerful and his shoulders broad. His hair was scruffy, almost demonic looking with the horns that seemed to stick out on the sides of his head. Crimson eyes seemed to bore through her, piercing her skull so much that she had to cast her own blue eyes downward. His arms were crossed, clothed loosely in the white and blue striped shirt he always wore, and his pants were baggy and torn. He cocked his head and raised his slim, milky brows.

"You were crying," he muttered, in his "I-don't-do-jokes" type voice. The girl forced a small smile, struggling to fight the rebellious sobs that demanded freedom, but she didn't say anything. She didn't need to; he had seen her in her lowest state, and she couldn't deny it. Not that she wanted to. An easement wrapped itself around her heart at the knowledge that someone else knew of her weakness, even if her chagrin level was seriously rising. "Why?"

In an attempt doomed to fail, the girl tried to relight the fire her eyes usually held. "Wouldn't you like to know, Bakura?" She tried to sound snippy, tried to ward him off with words, but she furrowed her brows at the pathetic crack her voice gave. She looked down at the sand as Bakura rolled his dark, bloody eyes.

"Uh, yeah, Anzu-chan, I would like to know. That's why I asked," his lips stretched into a devious smirk, and he flashed his inhumanly sharp canines. Anzu didn't reply. It was one thing that he had seen her crying, but she would never give voice to her deepest hurt. And especially not to him. He sighed, and blew some of his downward bent bangs out of his eyes, before letting it flutter back down into place. "Look, if you don't want to talk, I'll just leave."

The darkness turned abruptly on his bare heels and began his arrogant strut away, but Anzu felt his name bubble in her throat. "Bakura-sama?" He froze at the sound of her voice, and slowly turned his head, eyeing her with that haughty look he always had. Anzu swallowed hard, hardly believing her next words. "P-please don't go."

He grinned that sharp grin of his, and sauntered back over to her side, looking down at the broken girl superciliously. Her heart despised the way he smirked at her, but somewhere deep down the presence of another person reassured her. "So, what's up?"

"I-," her heart broke right there. She had rolled the thoughts over in her head thousands of times. I failed. I didn't get my scholarship. I can't do anything. But, she had never let them float off her tongue before, and as soon as she heard her own voice along with the words, she couldn't take it anymore. She sobbed in her hands, shaking her head and trying in vain to stop. No matter what she did, the first tear had fallen.

Through her sobs, she could just barely feel Bakura's stunned silence, as if he'd never expected that she of all people could break. She heard the soft rustle of clothes as the white-haired man bent down, and wrapped his arms around her in an uncomfortable, stiff embrace. She smiled slightly at his antics, and melted into his powerful hold, crying onto his chest.

Gently, he ran his hand in circles around her back, and the soft rumble in his chest told her he was humming quietly. When her sobs had quieted, she still pressed herself into his chest, feeling safe in his arms, and he rested his chin on her head. Reluctantly, she pulled away, and he let her, so she could wipe her eyes. His rude snort brought her back to reality, "Are you quite finished? I'm sure whatever happened couldn't have been that horrible."

She smiled and giggled lightly, looking down and playing her hands along the cloudy sand. After an awkward pause, she sniffled again, "Thanks, Bakura-sama. I'm sorry to have kept you." Anzu brought her blue eyes backup to his face, just in time to see determination flicker through his intimidating, ruby eyes.

He stood unexpectedly, and held a hand out to her, and Anzu just caught the attempt to hide the scarlet hue his cheeks were taking. "Dance with me." She blinked, staring up at him from her seat in the sand. Did she just hear right? Did Bakura just ask her to dance with him?

"I, uh," her cheeks flushed nervously, and suddenly their skin tones matched. She put a hand to her lips to hide the smile that she couldn't resist. Why was she so drawn to him? In one shaky motion, she took his hand and stood in front of him, once again pressed to his chest. Her eyes batted back tears; it felt so natural with him. "I hope you dance; I don't really feel up to leading right now."

He chuckled softly, a deep, resonating rumble that made Anzu smirk. "I don't. We'll just have to see how this goes." They started, and Anzu was surprised at how well he kept up; when she moved her feet, he moved his in the right spots, at the right time. She was shocked that the thief king could have anything suave in him, but was glad that they weren't stumbling all over the place.

It didn't take long for her to lose herself in the dance. Her movements took the graceful fluid of a natural dancer, and Bakura was keeping up quite well. He pulled her in close to him, before swirling her around in his arms. Anzu found herself laughing, and, to her enjoyment Bakura was giving a genuine smile as well.

She pulled Bakura into the twisting with her, snickering as he almost stumbled into her. He laughed with her, a rumble that Anzu savored. She never thought she'd love hearing anyone laugh so much, but his laugh just made her heart soar. They gathered themselves again, resuming their heartfelt dance. Anzu didn't resist the urge to entwine her fingers with his, and he didn't either; so there they were, hand in hand.

Anzu didn't know how long they danced for, but by the time she found herself again, the moon was smiling down on them, with thousands of shards of stars glimmering around it. Gasping, Anzu dragged herself out of his arms, unable to comprehend what she had been doing. She was here, in her place of comfort, dancing with Bakura. He blinked at her, reaching out again, with a smirk on his lips. Anzu was tempted to return to his strong embrace, the one place she found safety in, but she couldn't. They were enemies; Yami and the demon before her couldn't even be in the same room without quarreling.

She shook her head. "I can't, Bakura-kun. I'd have to choose between you and my friends and I . . . I can't. We . . . can't." Bakura blinked quizzically at her, his lips pursing. Her heart lurched. She wanted, needed, to throw herself in his arms again, but what would her friends think? What would Yami think?

"Anzu," he rumbled, baring his sharp teeth. "Forget them." Anzu blinked up at him, drawn in by his voice, everything about him. Tears formed in her eyes, pricked in the corners, and her lips shook with the effort to hold them in.

"I . . . Bakura, I can't." But, just for now, she fell into his arms, relishing the strong feel he presented around her, and once again melting into his embrace.

Just for now, she would let herself love him.


Ok! How was it?