Speculum

These last few nights had been like a sweet, burning hell.

Ryou hadn't wanted to be here—hadn't expected to be thrown into Ancient Egypt by his stupid Millennium Ring, which had a mind of its own. He disliked everything about Bakura, and that included his past, and he didn't want to know any more about it. But that was before the Millennium Ring had gotten its way, before he'd been pulled into Egypt against his will, and before he'd met…Bakura.

Or at least, this world's version of Bakura. They'd been the same as far as Ryou had been concerned at first—Bakura had kidnapped him in this world, just as his mirrored half had kidnapped Ryou in his own. With a dagger at his throat and not being able to understand a word that was being shouted at him, Ryou hadn't been in the position to argue. He knew this drill, how this story went. He was compliant, and he got to keep his life. If he was rowdy, he would be beaten—

Except that he hadn't been touched violently at all in the Egyptian Bakura's company. Ryou wasn't sure what to call him, and if Bakurahad offered his name, the teen wouldn't have been able to distinguish it in any case; but this Bakura had been very kind to him, and it appeared that the reason for his kidnapping was solely because of the similarities shared between them—this Bakura seemed to spend hours just looking at him, like a stray cat trying to decide if a human was safe. Never mind that he could have—and probably would have—been willing to off him at a moment's notice.

They shared few words, as this Bakura couldn't speak any English or Japanese (not that Ryou had been expecting him to) at all. Ryou remembered a small bit of Egyptian from his childhood, small things that his father had taught him when he'd been a child in case he'd gotten lost while traveling with him. But that was before Bakura had nestled inside of him, before he'd begun being taken over while playing Monster World. That had ruined his chances of ever going to Egypt, changing schools so often. His chances had been squandered, and his passion for learning ancient languages with it. Whenever he did remember some trivial phrase, "I'm hungry," for example, or "I'm lost," the Egyptian Bakura would rejoice, just a bit, and go on for the longest time before realizing that Ryou hadn't a clue what he was saying. It was strange, being with a Bakura that was as expressive as him: a Bakura that smiled, that didn't starve or beat him or take over his body…

This Bakura, however, was a thief all the same and that made Ryou uncomfortable. It lessened the gap between the two Bakuras in his eyes, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. Egyptian Bakura had starved him at first, staying up all night to make sure that Ryou wasn't a threat to him whatsoever. But Ryou wasn't a threat—actually, he didn't know what he was, or why the Millennium Puzzle had dropped him here in the first place—and he went out of his way to show that he wasn't. Once this Bakura trusted him enough not to have a dagger at his throat every few seconds, Ryou did a decent job of cooking the food that he assumed Bakura stole from the city, something it seemed Bakura didn't know too much about.

The days went by quickly with such an exciting companion. This Bakura knew that streets of the city better than anyone else. It made Ryou wonder, at times, while he sat watching in their camp—would there be a time when this Bakura would be caught and not come back? If Yami was the Pharaoh, was he in this world—this flashback—as well? Was he searching for Bakura to destroy him? Would he run into any of Marik's predecessors? Those were daunting questions, because he didn't know what he would do if he came into contact with any of those people. He wanted Yuugi to beat Bakura, no matter what—but not this Bakura. This one had been nice to him, offered him decent clothing, a small shelter in a secluded rock formation away from the city that provided lots of shade, decent plants that he could make into a poultice for wounds (at times, this Bakura returned from his travels wounded, but Ryou wasn't the least bit interested in how he'd gotten them), and overall this Bakura was caring for him without having known a single thing about him, without them exchanging any coherent conversation—. How long would they continue like this? How long would the Millennium Ring take before bringing him back to reality? What was his purpose here? He hoped it wasn't for Bakura to gain his sympathy—whoever Bakura used to be, he was nothing like that now. He was a wreck, a son of a bitch with a stupid Necrofear to protect him. Fuck Bakura.

…but not the Egyptian one.

Things became more complicated over time. He'd been here at least a month, but he'd lost track of the time when he'd been kidnapped (although that hadn't been this Bakura's intention) and it could have been a few days longer than that. Bakura seemed to grow impatient with him day by day, expecting something to happen or for some consequence to occur because he'd met someone who was so much like himself. The checks began again, and Ryou was inspected almost daily during this time period, obviously being searched for weapons. Thank goodness he actually wasn't wearing or hiding the Millennium Ring. It was disappointing, after all of the smiles and kindness, and the mutual appreciation between the two of them to be set back so easily, but Ryou could do nothing about it but be kind—after all, he wanted to keep his life, and he couldn't really blame Bakura; he had been paranoid when he met Yami Bakura for the first time. He wished he'd been as strong as this Bakura—he would have been able to split the other one's throat open. Bakura spoke often during these inspections, a habit he'd developed after figuring out that Ryou couldn't understand him. Ryou really wanted to learn Egyptian now, and he'd regretted his decision in giving up on it when he'd been younger. Terrible mistake. But that was a double edged sword, because Bakura couldn't understand English, either. Sometimes, when Ryou was hungry or when this Bakura wanted something, like for Ryou to clean some meat he'd stolen or when he wanted to tell Ryou to stay put while he went into town, they were so out of sync that they'd had to draw pictures in the sand, which was only effective when there wasn't a strong wind.

Ryou couldn't figure this one out, though. He just couldn't. He didn't know—and there was no way of knowing—what Bakura had wanted from him when, during a check the Egyptian began to stare at him for longer and longer periods of time. Sometimes they would just stand there, Bakura staring into his eyes, searching for something that Ryou couldn't understand. The hikari wasn't going to attack him or try to run away; he was stuck there until he figured out what the Ring wanted. And he didn't mind. This Bakura was, as he'd thought many times before, so different from the Bakura that he knew that it was hurtful. "I wish I knew what you wanted," Ryou said at one point, watching the sadness that filled Bakura's eyes as he stared. "I don't know why I'm here, either. I wish I could tell you." He sighed, looking away for just a moment so that he could focus on something that wasn't Bakura. But when he looked back up, however, Bakura was hovering much too close. This was getting ridiculous. What would he have to do to convince Bakura that he wasn't…what his mirrored self was?

No wonder he was taken by surprise the first time that the thief, Bakura, pressed his lips against Ryou's. Caught off guard, Ryou had been frozen in place, but he'd jerked away rather vehemently. "What the hell?" he'd spat, his hands reaching out and pressing them against the other's chest. Bakura had gone crazy after that, hand on the hilt of the knife on his belt, and it took Ryou quite a number of moments of hostility to realize that he'd just completely rejected a kiss. He'd never done that before. He'd never had the opportunity to do that before.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his hands up in a gesture of surrender. He hadn't realized what he'd done, only that Bakura's lips were on his and he hadn't been expecting it and this Bakura was so much like that Bakura, and in his mind he couldn't figure it out in enough time to respond in the least offensive way—

But the damage had already been done. Bakura had sat in a huddled ball in the camp for the rest of the day, unmoving, avoiding Ryou's eyes—his presence. He hadn't tethered Ryou to any rocks like when he'd first been kidnapped, however, so the hikari was under the impression that he was still not in as bad of a standing as he normally was. If this had been the other Bakura, and Ryou had refused him…his body shook just thinking about the punishment that resistance would have gotten him. Ryou was strong, but he knew how to pick his battles. What good would it be, dying in the middle of all of this (not just being Egypt, but all of it, fate of the world included)? Was it not the fact that he was living through it that made it worth something?

So he had decided that he would fix this. This Bakura had been nice to him, cared about him—and all things aside it had been so long since he'd felt the touch of another human being. In fact, the Egyptian Bakura had been the only kindness he'd experience directly since his last meeting with Yuugi. And that seemed to have happened a lifetime ago. It was awkward, trying to approach a person whom he could not understand, who didn't understand him and who also was a murdering thief (Bakura had returned more than once from his ventures into the city with blood on his hands) and could possibly lose it and rip him to shreds probably even without the help of the dagger he'd been holding close to his chest for the last twelve hours. But he would fix it. An apology wasn't enough—not that this Bakura would be able to receive it in any case. It had taken a moment for Bakura to stop fidgeting when Ryou sat beside him, and Ryou calmly waited a few moments before bothering to open his mouth. "I know that you can't understand me," he said, and while he'd been speaking he had kept his voice as calm and apologetic as possible, "but I didn't mean to scare you or push you away." He hoped that the intonation would help Bakura understand what he was trying to say, and to further emphasize his meaning, he place a gentle hand on Bakura's own, the one holding the dagger. Bakura seemed to pull away a bit, but didn't completely, and that was good enough.

Ryou had initiated the second kiss, just to prove his point. A wordless apology, for all intents and purposes. A warm, bubbly feeling had begun to pile up in his stomach, even after he'd hastily pulled himself back. He was satisfied, though, because despite the fact that Bakura rose from the ground and decided suddenly that he was going to go hunting for something that they could eat, Ryou had seen the small smirk on his face as Bakura had turned away from him.

In the days that followed, he'd been torn. That bubbling feeling inside of him rose into a raucous of nausea at times, even when he didn't want it to, when he worried about what he was doing—the looks, brushing against each other, trying not to smile. Neither one of them were men who easily admitted their affection, but—Bakura was still…that Bakura, down at the core of things.

Despite his feelings about the Bakuras—the thief and the villain, as he'd begun calling them in discussions he'd had with himself—he just couldn't forget the fact that they were, essentially, one person. They were the same, no matter what had happened to the one that he liked to turn him into the one that he disliked. And the villain didn't deserve to win, even if he'd been the rough but caring thief before. It was something that he couldn't stop thinking about.

He didn't time to think about it. He woke up next to Bakura, as he was growing accustomed to, in the shade of their earthen hiding place with lots of shade. He couldn't help what happened next. It was hot, but Ryou couldn't help shifting his body closer to Bakura, seeking more warmth than he knew he could handle. He would regret it for a little while, until Bakura was stirred by his movements and those rough lips captured his against. It would be hard for him to pull away, because it was always hard—and Ryou knew that it was going to be a problem in the future, but the Ring had put him here and they were both going to have to deal with it—and Ryou would revel in bliss with his thief for more than a few minutes.

That day, however, was different. Bakura's lips held Ryou's captive for longer than usual, and once they'd manage to separate themselves from one another, Bakura scrambled away, his fingers signaling for Ryou to wait. There was something Bakura wanted to show him, something that excited him so much that he was rambling a bit in nervous Egyptian and Ryou was left wondering about what could make him so enthusiastic. It was another few minutes, during which Bakura disappeared into the dunes of the desert and out of Ryou's line of vision, that the hikari saw what all of the excitement had been about.

The Millennium Ring.

Golden and glorious, the object as well as the cord that was used to hang it over the neck were intact. Actually, the item looked much more luxurious than it had ever seemed in Ryou's possession, like it had been freshly molded. Ryou's eyes brimmed with tears. Bakura'd had the accursed thing all along? He couldn't decide if he was more angry or happy. Finally, he could ask it what it wanted him to do and why the fuck he was here in the first place, in the sand and the grit, wearing robes that he'd never see on anyone who was alive back in his world—or in his consciousness, more like. He wanted to choke Bakura and kiss him at the same time. His hands clenched as Bakura stood in silence, trying to gauge Ryou's reaction to the presence of the item. Knowing him, he would still have suspicions about Ryou's loyalty. He seemed to not trust many people, Bakura, and Ryou wasn't sure if he had a right to be that judgmental or not—but that wasn't the time to contemplate things like that. He still needed to decide if he was going to lose his life fighting this man that he felt affection towards for his secrecy, or hug him for having the item in the first place.

Ryou opted for the latter, because it made more sense. Bakura seemed not to know how to take the assault, hands reaching out first in self-defense, tightly gripping Ryou's sides; but that gesture dissolved into something much softer as they tumbled in the sand, the grainy substance flying over both of them, mingling in Ryou's kiss but not making it any less sweet as he pinned Bakura to the ground with his ferocity. The thief had no idea how much having that item meant to him.

"Oh, how touching," An eerie voice said above them. "It's nice to know that you and my past self get along so…swimmingly."

Fear gripped him, and before he could gather himself, the thief beneath him scrambled, hands abandoning Ryou—one clutching the Ring, the other, his knife. The roll was completed excellently, and even Ryou had to appreciate Bakura's fighting spirit. The man stood before him, Ryou overcome by his shadow, but as he sat up, spitting sand out of his mouth, he already knew who had made an appearance.

The other Bakura.

"Who are you?" the thief spat.

"How did you get here?" Ryou asked.

Their voices chimed in simultaneously, one light and the other deep; one harboring subdued hatred and the other echoing murderously. Ryou did a double take. Had Bakura just spoken in Japanese?

"If you don't mind," the villain's voice was chilly, cool, collected and unscathed by the greeting he had received, "I'll be taking my item now. Hand it over."

{FIN - for now}

Hello! I hope that I got the ending right - I'm continuing using the pattern that I've been told works in terms of partitioning my story/ending it: line separations instead of the (scene shift) thing, and different brackets noting the end of the story. Please go ahead and give advice if you felt that it didn't work for some reason - I'm still trying to find something that's effective. Also - I tried to stay away from that block paragraph thing that people keep warning me about. Please let me know if I actually succeeded.

To be honest, this the best thing out of the four things that I wrote, and I had to go up until the last minute to try to tweak it - stupid brain of mine. It's up as it's own snippet now, for the contest, but actually, this is a chapter in continuation with my story "Mirror", which was my Dollshipping fic for the contest - hence the title, which is "mirror" in latin and only a placeholder until I put this chapter actually inside of the story. I battled with the idea of connecting this story and "Mirror" back and forth. I tried a few independent plots, but then ended up coming back to this because none of them felt right or read right. They were terrible. I'm ACTUALLY working on making this a multi-chapter fic, and this is going to be included, although I've skipped a bit of information between.

Notes on my characterization of the Bakuras: When posting this pairing, Ryou VeRua (the admin of the contest) made it clear that she wanted there to be a distinct difference between Yami Bakura (who is essentially Zorc's corruption of Thief Bakura's original soul) and the Thief himself. So, not only did I try to make them different, but a large part of this story is going to be Ryou's perception of the two of them, which he hasn't quite worked out yet. As far as Yami Bakura goes, he's the same bastard from "Mirror", just with a minor appearance (there's going to be a chapter with more of his poor treatment of Ryou to put this scene in more perspective - it was just unrelated to the contest entry, so I couldn't quite work it in there without it being so much filter it would irritate you). As far as the Thief goes, his motives are a bit obscure here but I tried to make a point with his character. Although he's quite violent and he's pitted against the Pharaoh, that doesn't make him not a person, without respect for any other human beings (aside from the Pharaoh, whose father he believes to be the reason why his whole city was torched, and I think that resentment in that case is rather justified). If Yami Bakura is Zorc, I can only imagine how much more humanized the Thief would be (before being influenced heavily by Zorc), or at least as human as a thief could be. I tried in this story to get across the fact that he's a multi-dimensioned character, someone who knows when to steal and who to steal from but not to take too much; someone who can still appreciate a person who is being kind enough to dress a wound for him despite being held captive.

Notes on my characterization of Ryou: I tried to continue Ryou's strong personality here, to make eagerness to be agreeable a measure that he takes to preserve his life as opposed to being cowardly, and I tried to express his understanding of the human psyche through his own suffering, as well as his capability of deep thought on the concept of what is 'real' in this situation. I think that Ryou is a very intelligent, resourceful character, if only he was given the chance to show that he's capable of it. He wasn't given that opportunity on the show, and I think that because Ryou didn't do anything particularly heroic, people assume that he's weak - however, if you're up against someone who is stronger than you, that doesn't make you a weak person or character. Yami Bakura is tough as nails and three times as ruthless. In addition to that, since he's Zorc, he's literally evil. You can't take on someone like that alone - and the fact that Ryou's been getting by means that he's stronger, not weaker, than most, especially considering that his method of remaining alive hasn't involved sacrificing another person in his place.

Notes on the Millennium Ring: It's a bit mischievous here, with its own plan on how to do things. I like the idea of the items having a consciousness of their own, constantly struggling to bring about peace, always chasing after the happy ending to make up for the lives that were stolen to create them. This works better for me than any other explanation of the show, because it's more optimistic to think that even when it seems as though evil is succeeding, the success of evil for a short while is a part of the seven Items' intricate plan to have good prevail overall.

Other notes: Yes, that was a bit of implied Tendershipping you saw there in that one sentence.

Ciao.