Welcome to 'The Last Puzzle'!
I really hope this fandom is not dead yet, because I have a long story to tell. :D

I've read many homecoming fics (with THE 'Homecoming' by Fiver taking the cake), but I had this version of it in my head for a while now. I was really intrigued by the idea of Yuugi, Bakura, Malik etc as adults, and how their lives would turn upside-down with the reappearance of their yamis. I mean... This is an entirely different level of a mess. :P

You can expect a lot of drama and romance, a slice-of-life feeling, as well as a plot to tie it all together nicely, but no explicit yaoi (the rating is T and I think I'll keep it that way). Oh, and there's gonna be some swearing and vulgar language, cause, you know... Bakura ain't exactly well-mannered.
You might notice a few mistakes here and there. If you do, notify me so I can correct them, because English is not my mother tongue.

Chapter 1: Reborn

It was raining hard.

Yuugi was watching the water cascading in rivulets on the windowpane, sparkling under the neon lights of the street. Around him, the café was full of people and noise, as many had sought out a warm cup of coffee on this cold winter evening.

Yuugi clasped his mug and pried his gaze away from the window, turning to the empty chair across from him. Anzu was late. It was probably due to the bad weather, because this was not like her. She was extremely punctual and Yuugi knew this better than anyone: he had known Anzu for twenty years and had been married to her for five of them.

He sighed and looked around. That place had once been the famous Burger World, their favorite hang-out when they were still in high school. Since then it had changed name and owner, and was now a café instead of a burger joint, but it had kept enough of the old furnishing and layout to still be familiar to his eyes.

It had been a long time since he had last set foot in there. Yuugi and his friends had been unconsciously avoiding the place for years, so it came as a surprise when Anzu asked Yuugi to meet her there.

There was a time when they hung out there a lot. That was where Anzu had worked on their first year of high school. Yuugi remembered how embarrassed she had been when he and Jounouchi had run into her during one of her first shifts. That had been quite a day... Yuugi craned his neck a little and managed to get a glimpse of one of the tables on the other side of the café: the one the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle had set on fire on that day. That was back before Yuugi knew about the Millennium Items, or that said spirit was actually a three-thousand-year-old pharaoh.

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips - as it always did when he remembered Atem - but it wavered and faded quickly. He turned back at the rain that pattered against his reflection on the window.

So many years had passed. Those days of their youth seemed like a dream now: something distant and otherworldly that may or may not have actually happened. Yet, at times like these, when something poked through the dream to the real world - that table was there, right there, its surface scratched off and polished but otherwise still the same - that he was reminded that all of this had been real.

"Yuugi?"

A voice cut into his thoughts. He turned and saw Anzu standing next to him, coat wet and cheeks flushed from the cold. She was smiling at him, albeit tentatively, and she looked absolutely breathtaking. For a while none of them moved, as Yuugi took in her image.

He had not seen Anzu for four months. Even though he had grown up with her and her form was permanently painted in his mind, he still found himself taken by surprise by her sheer beauty. For a few seconds his breath was knocked away, until the dull ache that spread through his chest brought him back to his senses.

"Anzu!" he cried, trying to sound as carefree as possible as he stood up to hug her; she returned the hug stiffly. "Welcome back! How was your flight?"

"Long and boring, as always", she replied as she took off her coat and sat across him. "It's good to be back, though. I missed Domino".

Another pang of dull ache at that. Yuugi lowered his gaze at the contents of his mug as his spirits sunk. A few months ago, she would have said 'I missed you'.

"Nothing has changed much, as you see", he murmured.

"That's not true", she said cheerfully enough to make Yuugi look up again. "You changed your hair again!"

"Oh, that..." Yuugi mumbled, glancing at his reflection on the rain-stained glass. His black, shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a ponytail. "Yeah, I got rid of the bangs. I figured that at twenty-nine I'm a bit old for bangs".

Anzu snorted. "You know my opinion about this. Your hair was your trademark! Everybody recognized the King of Games' hair!"

Yuugi chuckled and mumbled something about 'too old' and 'job'.

The waiter arrived, bringing Anzu a steaming cup of green tea. They sipped at their beverages for a while, the silence growing increasingly awkward.

"So, umm... Will you stay for the holidays?" Yuugi asked when he felt the silence had stretched on for far too long.

Anzu shook her head. "I'm leaving again for New York in two days".

"So soon?"

"Yes, I have too many things going on at the moment".

"I see".

Silence fell again between them, filled by the bustle of the crowded café and the rhythmical sound of rain hitting glass.

"it's been so long since I've been in this place", Anzu said suddenly, looking around with a fond smile.

"Me too. I didn't expect you to want to come here".

"Well... I guess I've been feeling a bit of nostalgia lately". She laughed, but the sound did nothing to cheer Yuugi up; on the contrary, it added to the pain in his chest.

"Anzu..." he started, gripping at his mug tightly. He looked straight into her eyes, even though he felt as if the indigo of her irises was physically hurting him. "Why did you ask to see me?"

Anzu looked slightly taken aback. When she did not answer, Yuugi went on.

"If it's about the divorce papers, I-"

"Actually, Yuugi", she cut across him in a quiet voice, "I wanted to talk to you".

"I told you, if it's-"

"It's not about the papers. It's-" She paused and took a big breath. "I... I was wondering if... If you are willing to give this another chance".

Yuugi felt his stomach plummet, the way it does when one misses a step on a staircase. He gaped at her, trying to wrap his mind around what she had just said. He felt hope ignite a spark in him that made his heart beat madly, but he tried not to show it. Instead, he shook his head.

"We've been through this so many times before. I mean, it's not as if anything has... changed. You-" He hesitated, hope clashing with disappointment in him. "You said it yourself, you're leaving again in two days, and we've seen that... this", he pointed at themselves, "can't work like that".

Anzu was biting her lip anxiously. "I'm going back to New York for the last time".

Yuugi found himself gaping once more. "What?"

"I'm going back to empty my apartment. And then I'm coming back to Domino. Permanently".

"But... But..." Yuugi sputtered, "what about your career? What about the theater company, and the-"

"I've had enough of that. I want to come back", Anzu stated decisively.

Yuugi sat back in his chair, lost for words. He had been dreaming of something like that for years: of having Anzu living with him all the time, of not having an ocean separating them, of having her close and not on the other line of a phone. Yet, something inside him made him look at her suspiciously.

"What do I have to do with that?" he asked her, his voice coming out a bit more harsh than he intended it to.

Anzu's jaw actually dropped a bit at his reaction. "But... I already told you. I was thinking of-"

"Are you coming back for me, or because-" Yuugi interrupted her again and then he abruptly stopped talking. He knew her career was not the one she had dreamed of and things had been hard for her lately - in short, she had not succeeded as a dancer - but he stopped himself before saying something of the sort. It would have hurt Anzu to hear it from him and, despite all that had happened between them, Yuugi did not want to hurt her like this.

Because he loved her. Of course he loved her.

But that was not enough to ignore certain things.

"What is my part in this?" he asked again.

Anzu sighed and lowered her head. "Yuugi... I am sorry about the last time... About what I said", she started off, shuffling uncomfortably in her seat and not lifting her gaze from her cup of green tea.

Yuugi pressed his lips together in a tight line and kept himself from saying anything. He did not want to think about the fight they had before Anzu's last departure.

"You know I've been in under a lot of pressure lately - well, for years, actually. It has been hard to concentrate on us with all that has been going on and I know that the biggest part of the blame lies on me", she went on in a much more confident voice. "However, I do believe that, once I move back to Domino, things will be much better and it will be easier to work this out-"

Yuugi turned his gaze to the window once more as Anzu kept talking, barely stopping to draw a breath. She was hesitant and unsure before, but now it seemed like she was reciting a well-rehearsed speech. He let her go on, only half-paying attention to what she was saying, while his eyes focused on the raindrops that clung to the other side of the glass.

He could not remember for how many years he wished for Anzu to come back to Domino. He never asked it of her, because he wanted to be supportive of her choice to make it as a dancer in New York, but this long-distance arrangement had been too hard for him. He spent the last years missing her and wishing that she would just stay with him, that he could see her every day like when they were younger. Now that it was finally so close to happening, he was not as excited as he thought he would be - not even close. Now that his wish was close to coming true, something was bothering him.

It seemed like all he ever did was wait for someone, pray and hope. All those years ago, he wished on the Millennium Puzzle for friends. After that adventure, after the Ceremonial Duel, he wished that he could see Atem once more; he had lost count of how many years it took him to get used to missing the pharaoh. And of course, after Atem there was Anzu.

How many years had he spent like this? All his life seemed like an endless streak of expectancy and fervent wishing; always waiting for something or someone. And he had grown tired of it. Too tired and too disappointed. He could not wait any longer for something that would never happen. Sure, Anzu said that she was finally coming back to Domino, but distance had not been their only problem. He could not expect this to fix everything. He did not expect anything any more, he simply had no more energy left for hope.

The reflection of his violet eyes looked back at him accusingly. He had lost his faith. Yuugi, who had never given up no matter how bleak things looked, had finally lost his faith.

He sighed deeply, feeling worn out like an old man.

He noticed Anzu had stopped talking. She was looking at him with sparkling blue eyes, apparently waiting for his answer to what she had just said and oblivious to the fact that Yuugi had barely heard half of it.

He let out an exhale heavily laden with fatigue and rose to his feet. "I... I'll think about it", was all he said, wanting nothing more than to end this conversation and leave. He tried to avoid her gaze as he reached for his coat and his briefcase and rushed out of the crowded café, leaving his half-drunk coffee and Anzu behind.

The walk back to his apartment was a long one, but it did not occur to him to call a cab. He crossed the wet streets slowly, rain pattering heavily on the top of his umbrella and cold biting at his exposed hands. His feet took him back to his neighborhood of their own accord; he was too lost in thought to pay attention to where he was going. In his mind were swirling thoughts about Anzu, and the divorce, and Atem, and all those years that had not been exactly as he thought they would be, and then back to Anzu once more.

What a mess they had made of things. When he was younger he liked to think that he would grow up to marry to Anzu. What he never expected was that he would end up getting a divorce from her. He had thought that, if they ended up together, that would be it. He always believed that once he'd find one he truly loved, that would be it. He knew now that this was not the case. It was a sad realization, but perhaps this disillusionment was part of growing up.

And now she was asking for a second chance. He wanted to give their marriage a chance, he did. But how could he forget so easily about everything else? How could he forget about that last time, about the things she said before slamming the door to his face? She hadn't spoken in rage, she had meant every word. Was this something they could salvage...?

A thunder rumbled in the distance and he blinked at the entrance of his apartment building, momentarily unaware that he had reached his destination. He started fumbling for his keys with frozen fingers.

He had just managed to make his numb hands cooperate and was about to put the key in the lock, when a low, weak voice reached him, barely audible over the sound of heavy rain.

"Aibou...?"

Yuugi's hands froze mid-air. He knew that voice. He knew it all too well. But he couldn't have heard correctly. He couldn't have, because it was years since... It had been years that he hadn't heard... It could not be.

His throat made a dry swallowing sound as dread crept up on him. Out of all emotions; dread. Because this could not be, even though he had heard it clearly enough. He must have lost it. After so many years, he had finally cracked now. Surely, after meeting Anzu and thinking so much about her and Atem, his mind must have-

"Aibou".

His heart gave such a lurch he felt light-headed with it. He could not have imagined that, too; he had definitely heard it. His breath formed a faint crescent of white steam as he slowly turned to the direction of the sound, ready for nothing more than to face a curtain of rain and the emptiness of night beyond that.

Because, if life had taught him something in those last eleven years, it was that one never gets what one expects.

So, he did not expect to meet the steady gaze of crimson eyes, nor a mane of achingly familiar - even if slumped by the rain - tri-colored hair, nor the tired, confused, tremulous but otherwise genuine smile of pharaoh Atem.

Yuugi's knees crashed to the ground, following shortly after his keys and briefcase.

A man lay face down on the sidewalk like a drop of pure white in the dark night. Nobody noticed the exact moment of his appearance, because the few passers-by hurried along their ways with faces hidden in scarves or the collars of their coats.

If anyone spared a glance at him they might have thought him dead, for he was neither breathing nor moving. The truth was that, at first, he was indeed as good as dead: nothing more than pale limbs and white hair sprawled on the wet concrete. But the unnatural stillness did not last for long, because after a while the man's heart gave a small, uncertain thud. Blood pumped through his cold veins one, two, three times before settling for a rhythmic pulse.

Thief King Bakura's heart had woken up.

The first breath he took was more of a rasping sound than an actual inhale. His body gave a violent twitch as air rushed in from his mouth and surprised his lungs with its force.

His eyes snapped open, crazed and unfocused. Pain spread from his chest to the rest of his body.

He had managed to draw in a breath, but he seemed unable to either let it out or draw in a new one. His lungs were burning. His fingers curled and clawed at the coarse ground as his body convulsed in his struggle to inhale, but the air seemed to stop somewhere along his windpipe. No images registered; his mind was panic and fire. His ears were buzzing so hard he couldn't even hear the pitiful, hissing sounds he was making.

Some instinct drove him to climb to his elbows; a bit of the pressure on his stomach and chest was alleviated and cool air finally rushed to his lungs. He gulped down as much air as possible before his body protested again.

He choked on his own greedy breaths and a queasy feeling rose from his stomach to his throat. For a moment he felt like drowning; then he convulsed violently and he retched. All that came out was a bitter liquid that added a burning in his throat and left him spitting and coughing.

Slowly, very slowly, the coughing and gasping gave way to proper breaths, however shallow and uneven. He raised a hand to wipe at his mouth.

When his fingertips touched his lips, he went still. The cold contact ignited a spark in his blank mind. He stretched his fingers in front of him, all the while trying to blink the darkness of his eyes away.

Shapes came into focus and he found himself looking at his violently trembling hand. His breath formed weak tufts of fog as he gazed, transfixed, at the limb before him, trying to grasp what he was seeing. For no distinguishable reason, he tried curling and uncurling his fingers. He felt a pang of satisfaction when the hand before him responded to his mind's commands.

Next he noticed the transparent drops that splashed on his flesh, each one of them exploding into countless tiny sparkles and sending a freezing sting through him. He knew this feeling, this continuous pin-prick pressure on his skin. He even knew that sound with the monotonous rhythm and the comforting quality about it.

Bakura's first conscious thought was that of one word: rain.

He lifted his gaze to see where those droplets came from. Colors and lights dazzled his eyes and the world went blurry. He blinked again and something hot cascaded down his cheeks along with the cold trails of the raindrops; he thought of tears with a kind of vague amazement. Clouds stretched overhead, dark grey with a tinge of red. Buildings rose all around him, dazzlingly high and speckled with neon signs and illuminated windows. Multi-colored cars glistened in a world of water and light.

Bakura managed to sit up, still panting, and gazed around in a mixture of amazement and confusion. Every breath bit at his lungs and he was shivering from the cold, but he focused his attention to the sign across from him. Despite his foggy mind, he found out he could read the harsh neon letters. Still, it took him a moment to realize that they were not hieroglyphs of some sort. They were Japanese. Japanese.

His next thought was, Domino.

He looked around but nothing looked familiar, not the street nor the buildings surrounding it. His own body caught his attention: the long white hair that were plastered on his naked chest, the thin limbs, the pale skin. He went back to observing his hands, recognition stirring in him. He knew this body, but it was not his own per se - not his own, ancient Egyptian one, with the tanned skin and the scars and the well-built muscles. This looked like his old host's body.

"Mom, look!"

Bakura's head snapped around, his body instinctively flinching to the sudden squeal. He spotted a woman standing a few feet away from him, umbrella clutched in one hand and a child in the other. The little girl was gawking at him with eyes wide in curiosity, while the woman looked positively horrified.

"Mom, where are his clothes? Isn't he cold?" the child asked with what sounded like genuine interest.

The woman grabbed at the child's hand and dragged her to the other side of the road, casting fearful and disgusted glances at Bakura while the kid kept asking about his clothes in a high-pitched voice.

Bakura simply watched them until they disappeared around a corner, mouth hanging half-open. He had never felt more lost in his life - at least, not as far as he could remember.

He shut his eyes and groped around the murky mess that were his thoughts for his most recent recollection. He could faintly remember a room, a half-lit hall with massive columns. He could remember tall figures looking down at him. He could remember the scale and the spell. And, indistinctly, he could remember the dazzling white light as the gate cracked open.

He opened his eyes, feeling his newly acquired breath catch in his throat. If that was the afterlife, the Gods had a very twisted concept of paradise.

He frowned at the dark street. He felt too weak to stand, but he had to find shelter before he could even start to fathom making some sense out of this. He tried to rise to his feet, only to have his wobbly legs give in and collapse in a quickly-largening pool of rainwater. His head spun from the sudden movement and he grunted in frustration. He gave it another try, this time managing to take a couple of steps before he ended up panting on the sidewalk again, the tips of his white hair swimming in a pool of mud and his heart and lungs stinging from even that minuscule exertion. He took a moment to catch his breath, feeling more pathetic than ever.

Thunder rumbled overhead, cloaking the sound of footsteps splashing their way towards him. Bakura lifted his head wearily and tried to see past his own sopping hair, ready for another mortal that would run away in terror.

Somebody had spotted him, but they did not seem to run away from him. On the contrary, they were hurrying towards him, holding an umbrella and what looked suspiciously like a towel. Somebody tall and thin; somebody with long, white hair, very much like his own.

Big, chocolate-brown eyes widened as the person who owned them staggered before freezing in his tracks. The umbrella slipped from the newcomer's fingers and got carried away by the wind.

The Thief King tried to lift himself from the ground, not peeling his eyes off the man before him. When his voice came out, it was hoarse and low.

"Hello, yadonushi".

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Well... Coming back to life is no easy task.

It's weird writing about an adult Yuugi. It feels almost OOC, but I guess that a person changes after 11 years (and some hurtful events). Same goes for Ryou, but we'll see more of him later on.

So, chapter 1 is done and I'd love to hear your feedback!

Review?