Bakura awoke with a start, choking on the stench of garbage and fish. His bones ache from a chill that stems from more than the icy rain. With a groan, he opens his eyes to cautiously scan the darkness around him. Something is wrong. He waits in silence for another moment, willing his ears to see what his eyes can not.
Shuffling draws his attention to the right to catch sight of a pair of shifty white eyes. Shadows conceal the figure of a hunched man, clothed in rags. His breathing, labored and raspy, grows harsher with every passing second. Hardly a threat. And then Bakura notices the gnarled fingers clutching a satchel.
In the next second, Bakura is pinning the frail man to the gravel. The gust of breath forced from the man's lungs is putrid enough to knock out a horse. The fragile bones beneath him felt as though they may crack and give way, but that is of little concern to Bakura. He shortens the distance between them until he can feel the mans acrid breath hit his lips.
"Please.. Ah..ah. P-please!" Tears strain from defeated eyes.
"Have you stolen from me?! You will regret it!" Bakura growls out the threat, but he can't be positive that the man had stolen that satchel at all. Yet Bakura's general mistrust and the man's obvious fear was, to him, a dead giveaway. And he would not let the man take what belonged to him, if indeed it was his.
"No! I-I swear!"
Bakura reaches under his belt for a dagger, becoming enraged when it is no longer there. Shit! The anger flowing through his veins forced his fist to connect with the man's face. He cries out in pain as blood trickles from the broken nose. While the old man is stunned, Bakura snatches the bag out his relenting grip and stands to his feet.
Without another glance at the defeated man, Bakura walks out of the alley and into the misty streets. His only thoughts now are on his hikary.
The only problem: Bakura has no idea where he is, and can only assume that the gods have placed him where he needs to be.
The signs take him to the inner city. Skyscrapers loom high above, intimidating in their height. Nothing at all is familiar. The streets that he used to traverse as Ryou's yami are all but erased from memory, now a foggy shroud at best.
The rain begins to pour, but Bakura is too exhausted to care. The way back was intense, depleting him of all his energy.
"Ryou, where are you?"
He continues to walk in silence, contemplating. How long has it been? A year? Two? Would Ryou accept his return?
A heavy thunder clap draws Bakura from his thoughts, just as the sky opens to a torrential downpour.
Up ahead, a man, dressed in an upper-class business suit, darts out of one of the looming skyscrapers. He scrambles for his keys to enter the vehicle parked at the curb, trying to escape the downpour.
"Hey!"
The man turns to look, catches sight of Bakura's ragged appearance, bare chest and wild hair. Frightened, he drops the keys in his haste to open the door.
"Wait!" The man, finally successful at jamming the keys in the lock, enters his car. He eyes Bakura frantically as he walks up to the passenger window to knock on the glass.
"What do you want?! Get away from me!"
Bakura growls under his breath, a string of curses struggling to escape. But his utter exhaustion depletes his remaining anger, leaving him weary.
"I just need directions. I'm trying to find someone!"
"I can't help you." Bakura watches in silence as the man speeds off. Can't help? Or won't help? A long sigh escapes his lips, but he keeps on trudging until his feet can no longer carry him. Soon, the exhaustion takes over completely.
An overhang from a nearby shop looks like a good place to rest. It provides little shelter from the rain, but at least it's something.
Bakura sat awake through the night watching vehicles and pedestrians pass. Nobody seems to care that it's late, and the rain isn't letting up. They carry on in their umbrellas and rain suits, taking no heed to the weather. People eye him as they pass, insulting leers and fearful glances. As time drags on, Bakura wishes the gods had given him his old trusty dagger.
Eventually the rain stops and a fog settles in its place. Unaware, Bakura's focus slips and he fell asleep.
Dawn rose, welcoming a clear sky and warm sun. A man emerges from the building Bakura rests against, startling him from his sleep. Still out of wits, he reaches for his dagger, cursing when he remembers it isn't there. No wonder the Gods saw fit to keep it from him.
The old man is whistling a chipper tune. He smiles at Bakura and chuckles. "Hoo what can I do for you, son! Been waiting long? Ha-ha!" He flips a sign and reenters the building, stopping just a moment for Bakura to follow. So with a more optimistic attitude, Bakura follows behind. 'Today I will find Ryou.'
The man walks past Bakura to enter another door, leaving Bakura to his own devices. There are shelves and stacks of games, display cases showcasing various figurines and toys. A glimmer of silver captures Bakura's eye. The figure of interest rests in a display case by the register. Upon further inspection, it looks to be steel. Bakura gawks at the fantastic craftsmanship.
A door clicking closed catches his attention, and he turns to the boy who emerges from it.
"Hey, Grandpa! I'm going to be late! I'm meeting the guys early, remember?"
He hasn't noticed Bakura yet. The boy has a wild style, that's for sure. His hair resembles his grandfather's in a remarkable way, pointy in all directions.
"Oh." They make eye contact. His already large eyes grow impossibly larger. "Umm.. Grandpa?"
'Does he recognize me?'
"Ho-ho, what is it Yugi? Get going, you're going to be late!"
"Grandpa.." The boy pulls the old man aside to speak in his ear. Bakura watches the pair closely, skin tingling with distrust.
The two whisper between themselves for a moment, but all Bakura can hear is "Are you sure?" And a following " Uh-huh."
"Boy! My grandson here seems to recognize you. He said you are some kind of thief! Is that true?" Anger replaces his chipper tone, throwing Bakura's good mood out the window.
"I'm not looking for trouble." Bakura was quiet, resigned. He was weary of conflict and just wanted to get on with his search.
"What's in that bag you're carrying? Show me!" Before Bakura has a chance to react, the man snatches the satchel from his hands.
"Give that back! I said I wasn't looking for trouble, and I meant it!"
But Bakura's words hold no value because the man has already looked into the bag. Wads of cash in neat bundles, an estimate of 100,000.
The man's face turns a deep shade of red. "Explain yourself right now, mister, or I'm calling the police!"
Bakura's mouth slips open, shocked at the man's threat. "I didn't steal it." The man wasn't buying it. How else would he have obtained it? "It was a gift."
The old man was skeptical. Bakura looks to the younger boy for some assistance. His eyes are downcast, shaking his head, doubtful and afraid. He won't be of any help.
"I need to find someone. Please let me go, and you can keep the damn money!" It was only given to him in case he couldn't find Ryou in time. And he was not going to let that happen.
"Grandpa, let me talk to him. Alone?"
"Yugi, I don't think-" The old man's voice strained from his contained anger.
"It's fine, grandpa. I can handle this."
"Yugi! If he is as dangerous as you say, I shouldn't allow you to be alone with him!"
"Maybe I was wrong, Grandpa. He seems sincere."
"Yugi-" Finally the man withdrew, muttering a curse as he disappeared behind the door. When the door clicked shut, Yugi turned to face Bakura.
"Bakura? What are you doing back?! How-?"
Bakura cut him off. "I don't have time for this. I need to go. I've wasted too much time as it is."
"You're trying to find Ryou! I can help you."
"You can? Then take me to him!" It sounded too good to be true, but maybe this boy knew Ryou personally. He seemed to recognize Bakura right off the bat, so it wasn't all that far fetched.
"First you have to answer my questions."
"Fine." The boy may be essential for getting to Ryou, better not piss him off.
"How did you come back? Why are you here?!" His tone changed, cracked. "Is Atem back, too? Where is he?!"
Bakura scrunched up his face. Of course the kid would ask that. The boys excitement at his appearance was alarming.
"I can't tell you why, it's confidential. All that I can tell you is the fate of the world is in jeopardy, and that I'm the one to save it." Gullible kid.
"Again? That doesn't make sense. Why would you be the one to save the world?"
"I don't have the patience for your insolence, shorty. Take me to Ryou right now!"
"But what about Atem?" The poor boy was still hopeful.
"The Pharaoh is in the afterlife."
Was he going to cry? Bakura almost felt bad telling him. It was obvious now that Yugi was the Pharaoh's precious hikary.
"Can't you at least tell me what we are in danger of?"
"Darkness." Bakura rolled his yes. His patience was wearing thin and he was getting anxious with every question. He was ready to get the hell out of the stuffy game shop, and find Ryou at last.
"The Shadow Realm?" Yugi paled, even looked like he may be sick.
"Can we go now?" Yugi was sure to have caught the impatience that time.
"Fine. Lets go." The boy let out a sad sigh, eyes downcast, refusing to meet Bakura's stare.
"I need my money. I'm not leaving here without it so that fool can have it for himself!" Bakura had just remembered that the old man had taken it to the back with him. What would he do if he DID need it at some point? Find a JOB?! No way.
"It's fine, I'll get it back to you. I promise. Oh, and there's something you should know about Ryou before I take you to him." Bakura gave him one last look of skepticism, before finally giving in. It was time.
They exited the shop, Bakura empty handed and apprehensive at the coming meeting. Questions now nipped at his conscious. Would Ryou accept him back? What would he do if that were not the case? And now without the money to fall back on, a dread crept up his spine.
"Bakura. Ryou has.. well. He suffers from depression, and we can't seem to shake him out of it. Here we are. Right up there. I'm leaving now. Bye!"
"Wait, what's that about Ryou?"
"Never-mind. Oh, and please don't tell Ryou I brought you here."
Bakura watched, puzzled, as the boy ran off down the road. With a dismissive grunt, he mounted the steps to knock on the door.
In just a few seconds the door swung open. The hikary looked out to a half-naked hooligan standing on his front porch. Alarmed by the strangers presence, he slammed the door in Bakura's face.
"Ryou?"
"Can I help you?" His voice muffled behind the door, but Bakura could hear the strain in his words.
"Ryou. It's your yami. Can I come inside? I'll explain everything."
"MY YAMI?" Bakura could here the chinking sound of the chain lock being set in place before he opened the door again. Ryou's bewildered stare took in Bakura's disheveled appearance, it was hard to fathom. His yami, back from the dead? Impossible. Bakura fought back the urge to snicker.
"I mean you no harm, Ryou. I need to speak with you."
And with that, Ryou unlocked the chain and stepped wide to allow Bakura entrance to his home. Ryou locked the door behind them and took a seat, waiting.
Bakura took a moment to settle in, take in his surroundings. Again, nothing at all was familiar to him, only Ryou. With a heavy sigh, he took a seat across from Ryou.
"I don't know where to begin."
"Why don't you begin with why you are here?"
"Okay. This is for your ears only, Ryou. It's confidential until we figure out what we're dealing with. Don't repeat it. Osiris sent me on a mission. If I succeed, I may receive entrance to the afterlife."
Ryou looked at him in disbelief. "What mission?"
"I know it sounds unbelievable. The shadows were supposed to be contained, the powers gone. Now something is stirring and I have to find out what it is and stop it. But i can't do it without you, Ryou."
Ryou stared for a second, incredulous. Bakura waited for the questions he was sure would come.
"Okay. Welcome back, I guess."