Author's notes:

DISCLAIMER: Yu-Gi-Oh and it's characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi, not me. This applies to all the chapters.

Hi there welcome to my first fanfic, a Yu-Gi-Oh AU setting in a futuristic city where Ryou is a high school student, Akefia (Thief King Bakura uses this name in this story, but later on he changes names for some reasons!) the rogue/thief for hire, and Bakura... Well you'll see where he ends up ^.^

The story has a few yugioh characters but it is mostly Bakura centric, which means it follows closely the story of the three albinos instead of the others.

I'll try my best to keep the characters with their canon personalities c:

The main pairing in the story is Thief King Bakura x Ryou Bakura (Gemshipping), with some hints of other Bakushipping drama. So yeah, shounen-ai is a warning to those who don't like it.

Thanks!

It was raining again…

Soft footsteps treading on the light morning grass stirred Akefia from his daydreams. The rustling of leaves above distracted him for a second, but only just. Reminding himself why he was here, he quickly ducked behind a large tomb, out of sight. From the misty haze emerged a young boy in a high school uniform, holding a dark umbrella, and carrying a bouquet of roses.

Of all the cemeteries in the large, but silent city, the teenager chose this one to visit. Again and again.

The boy looked around, to glance around hastily for other grievers. Perhaps he liked the solitude; perhaps he didn't want to disturb anyone else. Akefia didn't want to know.

Or did he?

He couldn't deny that this was his fourth visit to the same cemetery. The first time was just a passing glance towards the boy and his flowers. A few weeks later, he walked past the same graveyard seeing the same boy and his same process. As time passed on, he couldn't contain his questioning much longer and stopped to watch the boy whenever he caught him. Though on the third time, the thief silently surveyed him from across the street, unwilling to close the distance between them. A month later, he caught the boy once again, on a cold spring morning. This time he was determined to get an answer.

He peeked out from his gravestone to observe the boy and his… rather precarious habits. The alabaster haired youth walked over to an ordinary gravestone, favored by some, and looked away by many. All at random, he plucked a rose from his bouquet and set the pale scarlet flower beside the unwritten epitaph. To Akefia, watching from the distance, and listening to the pitter-patter of the rain, the boy's lips and prayer looked like something out of an old-fashioned movie. Gray and silent.

Suddenly, yet slowly, the boy stood up, placing his palm on the gravestone and gave it a melancholic smile. A longing smile, best presented for a lost family member or friend. However,

the boy walked to the next grave, and repeated himself, over and over.

Whispering the same silent grace. Smiling that same downcast smile.

Just go talk to him.

The whispering wind lulled Akefia to stand up and shake the rain off his coat. He began questioning his sanity as the logical side of his being began to remind him that instead of making foolish theories about the boy, he could just ask him.

It was strange. To think he could casually talk to someone like that again, without menacing or threatening them. After all, it was just a simple boy who often paid this cemetery a visit. A visit to each of its deceased inhabitants.

Sighing, and then taking in a deep breath of the sharp air of the morning, the thief placed his hands in his long coat pockets and came out of his hiding spot.

This is so stupid.

The boy, who had just placed his last rose on another nameless grave, stopped abruptly, glancing back before standing up. He had a visitor.

His brown eyes grew wide then settled down again, as if he wasn't surprised to see another person so early. The corners of his mouth slowly grew into a welcoming grin, yet his eyes did not share the same luxury.

"A rather gloomy morning, isn't it?" The student turned to the thief.

"I've had my share." Akefia replied gruffly, unaccustomed to small talk. "Too much, in fact."

"Are you visiting a family member?"

The thief didn't respond, unsure of what to say. He studied the other boy closely, narrowing his eyes. The soft features, long white hair, and dark rings of sleepless nights circling his two large brown eyes.

The boy didn't seem to mind the silence. Sensing the stranger didn't want to make conversation, he reached down to pick up the empty bouquet. Glancing up to look at the man's face covered by shadows by his crimson hood, the teenager averted his eyes from the thief's. He steadied his umbrella and began to walk away.

"And what about you?"

Akefia's voice sounded so distant to him. Usually he enjoyed the sound of his laughter before looking down on his victim's face full of fear. The fear that fueled the adrenaline in his blood. He wasn't sure how else to put his question, but the tone that shattered the silence between the two strangers was unnaturally soft. So soft, he was sure that the boy didn't hear him. He tried again.

"Surely you haven't lost so many."

"I…"

Despite the ambiance of the rain, Akefia could make out the sound of the boy's finger holding the bouquet's wrapping paper, gently pressing it against himself.

"I know that the gravestones are unmarked. And that many families choose a gravestone to honor their dead. And that they come often. Each dead person should receive the proper respect that they deserve."

The gentle voice trailed off.

"But if we celebrate life, without minding so much as the identity of whom the person would become. Then shouldn't we treat the dead the same way?"

Akefia glanced back to the boy who smiled back to him.

"There isn't enough time or roses to celebrate each and every one of the dead." He responded. "Don't be so naïve."

Without waiting for the teenager to ramble on another explanation, or give another one of his ridiculous grins, Akefia treaded towards the entrance gate, shoving the boy aside. Scowling as he realized how drenched he was.

Almost regretting his decision, he silently cursed himself for his unreasoning inquisitiveness. A needless detour that surfaced unwanted thoughts from the parts of his mind he chose to ignore. He shouldn't have taken it so personally, but he wasn't expecting the response the teenager gave him – not at all.

When he got a good distance between them, he reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out the item he managed to pick pocket when he passed the other boy.

A gleaming silver pocket watch hung from his hand as he dangled it in front of his face. Swaying back and forth, the watch served as an elegant centerpiece to the backdrop of the common skyscraper.

This should be of good worth.

At least, his trip wasn't a complete waste of time. Listening to some high school kid ramble about the dead and the living, and watching his pathetic smiles over and over… He won't be going back to Cemetery 35 any time soon.

Akefia allowed his hands to roam over the finely crafted clockwork. He found a small groove by the side of the watch accompanied by a tiny knob. Pressing on it, the bottom of the pocket watch smoothly slid open, revealing a hidden compartment.

Originally, the thief thought the boy would have hidden a precious jewel. His hopes slipped away when he realized the object was flat. A few seconds later, a small photograph was taped to the slide. He stepped out from the shade to get a better look at the paper.

A rare sunny day with a family; a father, a mother, a brother, a sister, all sitting in the grass laughing and smiling with each other. They shared the same brown eyes and light hair. The little girl pulled on her big brother's clothes as the mother and the father embraced the two children trying to get them to stay still for the picture.

Akefia closed the watch immediately, forcing it inside his coat's pocket, turning his head away in disgust. He would have felt better if his emotion was anger, but it stabbed at his heart in an uncomfortable matter and left him feeling out of character. He shook his head and pulled out his cell phone to distract himself, turning it from silent to vibrate.

He checked his messages. The unread message had a photo attached to it, and when the thief finished reading it, he recognized the old rush of the hunt without any guilt lingering behind.

B:

Fifth Avenue, Pender Street Crossing.

Blue line.

The black briefcase.

You know what to do.

Just before he had time to close the message, his phone buzzed in synch with another message arriving. The thief opened it.

B:

Curiosity caught the cat again, didn't it little thief?

Hope you like it! The story is rather slow at the beginning, I apologize! Any review is a good review c: